On Black Wings
by Darkscythe Drake
Summary: After suffering a beating from his uncle, Harry is whisked away to a small village. After living there for a month, Dark Guild wizards arrive and attack the village, killing Harry's friend in the process. His magic whisks him away once more to the doorstep of...the Dragon King. How will Harry turn out? Some Dumbledore/Potter/Weasley bashing. Alive!Potters. Beta'd by ShimmerOnIce.
1. Prologue

**Hi, this is something that I have been itching to write for a long time. This story was inspired by the great works of Lupine Horror and Arawn D. Draven (who has helped me think up ideas for this fic), as well as Son of the Dragon King by DragonKingDragneel. This formula has been used before, but I have never tried it so…yeah.**

 **There** **will be bashing of Dumbledore, Weasleys and Potters here** **, but I will try and describe them so that they are** **people with reasons acting like they did.** **Everything has a reason for happening, including for what characters did to deserve bashing. I wish to thank Arawn D. Draven for given me permission to use those reasons. I will give out these reasons in due time, so be patient.** **The same will go for any OOCness you might see.**

 **I own nothing except the plot and my OCs.**

 **Hope you enjoy and constructive criticism is welcome! BETA NEEDED!**

* * *

 **Prologue**

Seven-year-old Harry Potter was sitting in the library of his school, reading a book. He was trying to get away from his cousin Dudley and his gang after they tried to chase him and beat him at the playground. Even though he didn't want to, he know that at one point he would have to go back to class. Then when school was done, he would have to go back to his aunt and uncle, who would either pile more chores on him if he was lucky, or lock him in his cupboard. For a seven-year-old, Harry was rather thin and small, since he barely got to eat food, the Dursleys saying that it was a "waste of money". Despite this, Harry was rather intelligent for his age. He always had to do worse than Dudley lest his uncle finds out and locks him in his cupboard under the stairs.

So here he was, sitting in the library, the one place in his entire school that Dudley and his friends would never enter. His cousin hated reading books, saying that they were "too hard." He had just finished a nice picture book and was about to return it when he saw a big red book peeking out from one of the shelves, its spine a glittering silver. Being drawn to it, he put the book down on the table and went over to the shelf. He grabbed a nearby stool and pulled down the book, and when he looked at its cover he slightly widened his little green eyes in surprise: On the cover was the circular picture of a green, fire-breathing dragon with golden words at the center:

 _Dragonology: The Complete Book of Dragons._

Harry had never seen a book like this before. The Dursleys would never let any book or game in their house that had something "freakish" in it, like magic. Once Dudley bought a fantasy game home from one of his friends, and he had heard from the kitchen his aunt and uncle screaming at him and throwing the game away. At least they didn't take it out on him, which they usually did whenever magic was mentioned. Still, he had heard about dragons; what kid didn't?

He unknowingly licked his lips in anticipation and went to open the book; before he did that, he glanced at a clock on the wall. He had time. He opened the book to the first page, which had the drawing of a dragon sleeping besides a man with a note book. Next to it, the following passage was inscribed:

" _Among all the kindes of beestes and Serpentes, there is none comparable to the mightie Dragon in awesome power and majestie, and few so worthy of the diligent studies of wise men…"_

With those words, young Harry Potter was drawn into the world of the mighty beasts that the book described. Every fact about them entranced and fascinated him, filled him with a sense of wonder he had not thought was possible for him to feel; their razor-sharp claws, their perfect eyes, their iron scales and their deadly breath of flames. Not just that, but dragons, it seemed, were different in shape and size depending on where you looked! Wings and flame in the west, long and water in the east, and other mystifying descriptions.

Unfortunately for Harry, his silent fascination was broken by the sound of the recess bell. He looked down at his book with a small hint of dread. The Dursleys would never allow him to take it home, but if he left it here, some other kid would just take it. Harry didn't want that; he wasn't done reading! He wanted to know more, to see more of their strength. What could he do?

He looked around the library trying to think of a solution, when he saw a large bean-bag propped up against a small desk filled with shelves. An idea started to form in his head. What if...?

He rushed over to the bean-bag and made sure no one was approaching. He then closed the book and placed it in the bottom shelf of the desk, hidden from sight by the bean-bag. He then adjusted the bag to completely hide the book, and when he was done he ran out of the library, hoping he was not late for class. As he ran, he had a small smile on his face as the pages he had read from the book slowly started to form in his mind.

 **-OBW-**

For the next month or so, Harry ventured to the library every recess after he had made sure Dudley or his friends didn't see him. The _Dragonology_ book was always kept hidden behind that bean-bag in the corner and every time he opened the book, he let out a sigh of relief that no one had found it. Which was odd, since the librarian was always present when he entered. He had already read the book several times over, but its contents, no matter how little they were, never ceased to amaze him and fill his head with fantasies; not even the Dursleys, their chores, their abuse and their hatred of him quelled his excitement waiting for school every day, just to read that book.

Every little detail about the dragons excited him: they were described as nearly invincible, lived across the world, their forms different depending on where he went. From the fearsome winged height of the wyvern to the elegant rainbow feathers of the Amphithere and the graceful form of the Long, each dragon was fascinating in its own way. Every part of their body was detailed and unique as well: their sight was unequaled, their scales bulletproof, their fiery breath (for those who had it) seared all in its wake.

Harry was simply amazed; they were just so…powerful! They were so strong! Stronger than anything else! They didn't care if people thought that they were freaks; they were too strong to care! The most fascinating thing that Harry found about them however, was their power of flight; how they could fly and roam wherever they wanted, letting no one stop them. They possessed a quality that the little boy desired to have most of all: they possessed freedom. Pure freedom. Oh, how Harry wished that he could be free as them. That he could just grow leathery wings and iron scales and fly away to the great unknown, away from his…family.

The only time that he had come close to such a feeling was a few days ago, when Dudley and his gang had managed to find him before he could sneak off to the library and chase him. He ran into a dead end and thought for sure that they were going to get him, but suddenly he found himself standing on the rooftop of the school with no idea of how he got there. Any normal child would have panicked and called for help, but Harry just stared at the view that was laid out in front of him. For a moment there, he felt like a dragon; soaring through the sky not letting anything stop him. Unfortunately for the boy, one of the teachers spotted him and made a mess of things. When he got back 'home', only the memories of the book and the fact that he would see it again managed to keep him hopeful as Vernon slammed his head twice against the wall and flung him into the cupboard.

He didn't know how he had appeared on the roof; the Dursleys called it his "freakishness". He would've grown more depressed but every time he thought about it, that he really was an unwanted freak, the image of the fire-breathing dragon on the book's cover popped into his head and kept those thoughts at bay. So what if they thought he was a freak? Dragons could also be considered freaks and they didn't care. Harry had wished over and over again that he could be strong like the dragons, that he could stand up to his relatives but he just…couldn't.

Right now, Harry sat in the library rereading the section about taming dragons. That particular section had always troubled him, despite all his love for the book. No matter the justifications that it gave him and his acknowledgement of that fact, Harry just couldn't picture a creature so powerful being tamed. They shouldn't be.

He glanced up at the clock and saw that the bell would soon ring for class. Sighing, he returned the book to its hiding place and went to the exit. Just before he did though, something caught his eye again like _Dragonology_ had when he had first opened it. Sitting on the very same shelf that he had first plucked the red book from, was a much smaller red-spined book. But even from afar and with his weird glasses, he recognized the telltale golden words of _Dragonology_ written on the spine. Harry's excitement level just burst through the roof; there was more? He had to find out! Unfortunately for him, the bell suddenly rang. Harry started to panic; he couldn't leave that book! Someone might take it! He took a quick look at the librarian's desk and saw that she wasn't there. Not even pausing to blink, Harry dashed to the shelf, snatched the small book and ran out the library and back to class, all the while clutching the book to his chest. He quickly entered class and shoved the book in his bag before the teacher noticed.

As the school day kept going, all of Harry's thoughts were directed at the little treasure in his bag. He couldn't wait for the day to end so he could sneak the book in his cupboard and read it.

Eventually, the end-of-day bell rang and all of the children ran out the school doors, Harry included. He ran all the way back home, excited at the prospect of reading his new book, and nervous because of what might happen to him should his aunt and uncle find him late or worse, find the book.

He slowed down when he reached Number 4 Privet Drive. That was one place he would love to see a dragon burn down. Shuddering, he took a deep breath and knocked on the door. A few seconds later, the door opened to reveal his aunt Petunia, a thin, blonde, horse-faced woman standing there with a frown on her face and wearing a white dress. ' _That is a relief'_ he thought. _'At least she won't kick me out like Uncle Vernon.'_

"Get inside and prepare lunch. Vernon won't come home until evening today so prepare him a small plate. After that, go weed the garden" she ordered. Harry just nodded silently and marched through the house and into the kitchen, dropping his bag in his cupboard on the way. After he had cooked a meal of bacon and toast for the rest of the family and having sneaked in a tiny piece for himself, he called out to Petunia and Dudley that the food was ready. He set their plates and went outside to toil in the dirt.

An hour later, muddy, cold and exhausted, for it was a winter day, Harry got up from the wet and now weed-free garden. He entered the house and silently went into his cupboard. Settling in the ragged blanket, he turned on the weak lightbulb and pulled out the book from his bag. The cover depicted the head of a dragon with the glittering words "The Dragon's Eye" in the center. Silently, he opened the book and entered into the dragons' world once more.

He should have been paying more attention though, because a couple of hours later, the thundering footsteps of his uncle Vernon Dursley echoed through the house. Harry would've hidden the book by now, but his fascination with the story overrode his danger sense. Luckily, Vernon hadn't noticed the light in the cupboard when he passed by, so he was safe for now. He kept reading the little book for another hour before he was done.

The story was incredible; even though the explorer had completed the riddle and saved the town, the dragon was the one that had burnt the bandits and the whole surrounding forest to a crisp and had carried the explorer out of the wild and dangerous mountains. Best of all, when a group of hunters had heard about the dragon, they tried to capture it only for the beast to laugh in their faces and burn them too. That just further cemented the dragons' power and freedom in the young Potter's mind; they were unequaled among all others. He really wished he was a dragon.

He was about to turn back to the first page when the door to his cupboard violently opened. Standing there with a fat girth and a face that looked like a red beach ball was his uncle Vernon. He opened his mouth to say something when his little beady eyes trailed to the book that was in Harry's now frozen-with-fear hands. When Vernon saw the cover of the book, he bared his teeth in rage and his face turned purple.

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!" he screamed as he pulled the thin child out of the closet and began pounding him with his meaty fists, all the while Harry tried to defend himself to no avail. Every time the fat man yelled a word, he pounded Harry with a stronger punch. "NO—FREAKISH—THINGS—IN—MY—HOUSE! YOU—DAMN—FREAK!"

Harry's vision started to dim as he started to succumb to the hits that were slowly damaging his frail body. His breathing slowed down to several gasps as he failed to resist the punishment. It wasn't fair, why couldn't he do anything? Why was he so weak?

He felt Vernon's fists stop and he slowly lifted his head upwards, only for his green eyes to widen in horror as his uncle grabbed his book from inside the cupboard and started to slowly tear it apart. He mumbled _no_ under his breath several times as he heard ripping sounds coming from the book and the pages were being torn from the book's spine. Finally, Vernon tore the whole book in half with a small roar. At that moment, something inside young Harry Potter _snapped._

Unknown to the boy, he was a wizard; a human who could manipulate and control magic. The source of his magic was his magical core, a metaphysical organ that generated and kept his magic flowing throughout his body. The most dangerous thing about magic however, was its power to react in accordance with the caster's emotions. When Harry had first found the book, he had subconsciously drawn on his magic to hide the book and himself while reading it from the librarian and the other schoolchildren. As he kept reading the book, his magic had also been subconsciously influenced to try and emulate the powers of the very creatures he had admired. However, due to an… _unknown_ complication, his magic was instead bottling up with very little room to exit. When Vernon had ripped the book in half, Harry's heightened emotional state was too much for his core to handle and it resulted in an _…explosive_ …chain reaction.

At that moment, whatever was blocking his magic finally broke, and it rushed out and responded to the one thought that lingered in the boy's mind: freedom.

' _I…I wanna go away…I don't want to feel pain anymore…I…I want to be FREE!'_

If one was to stand outside of Number 4 Privet Drive, they would've seen a brief flash of light from within the house before the whole house and garden were engulfed in a wave of fire with a loud and thunderous BANG. The blast shook the whole neighborhood and woke up the residents, who all rushed out to see the black smoking ruins of the home of Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley Dursley, along with the charred remains of their corpses.

If they had paid close attention though, they would have noticed two things: first, they would have heard the faint, inhuman roar that echoed across the sky. Second, the remains of something were missing from the house. More accurately, _someone's_ remains…

 **-OBW-**

Greegham Town was a small village on the outskirts of Fiore. It was a rather quiet and simple village, away from the hustle and bustle of civilization. It was surrounded by a large forest, so it was considered rather isolated from the rest of the country. Inside said forest, a hunter was running to search his prey. The village has had rough times lately when it came to food, since winter came and most of the animals had migrated or hid themselves for hibernation, but he was sure that a few had still remained.

He had already managed to shoot down a squirrel with his bow, and was now following another animal's tracks, most likely a fox. He had already ventured deep into the forest and felt that he was getting closer to his prey. Sure enough, he had reached a small den where the fox was sure to be.

He was about to set up a trap when he heard a loud CRACK coming from behind him. He quickly whipped out his bow to defend himself, but instead he saw something that made him gape in surprise. It was the body of a child, covered by large rags. How did a child end up here?

He quickly dashed to the frail-looking body, the fox left forgotten in his mind. He turned the body over to see a small boy's face with messy black hair, large spectacles and a small lightning-bolt scar on his forehead. He checked the boy's heartbeat and sighed in relief. He was alive, but weak. What had happened to him?

He moved his hand to lift the boy when he heard a small moan of pain from his little mouth. Looking at where he had touched, he easily pulled down the rags to see what was wrong, but his eyes widened further at what he saw: large bruises covered the boy's arm and when he pulled the rags down further, he saw that more of those bruises and cut littered the child's frail body. They didn't look like they came from an animal though. Abuse?

He was broken out of his stupor when the boy let out another soft moan of pain. He shook his head and dashed back to the village, carrying the boy bridal style. He would not let this child die.

 **-OBW-**

Harry felt comfortable.

That was a new experience onto itself, since he had only felt like this several times in his life. The Dursleys didn't allow him any form of comfort, so the sensation was unfamiliar to him. But he felt himself lying on something soft, something warm. He managed to regain some of his senses and opened his eyes a little. What he saw surprised him.

Instead of the dark ceiling of his cupboard, he saw a high, wooden ceiling. The child propped himself up with one hand and looked around. He was in a small room, with two windows, a door and a small desk with a pitcher of water. He himself was lying on a soft white bed.

' _Where am I?'_ he thought in worry. _'What happened?'_ The last thing he remembered was suffering another beating at the hands of his uncle, said uncle ripping apart his book, a surge of pain and then…nothing.

' _My uncle…wait!'_ he thought in surprise. He took another look around to make sure that he wasn't seeing things and when he was done, a small pang of elation and relief flickered in his chest. This didn't look like Number 4, or any other house he had seen for that matter. _'He's not here…I finally left. I won't have to feel their pain anymore…they can't call me a worthless freak anymore. I'm…I'm free!'_

He was broken from his happy thoughts when he heard the door open. Instinctively, Harry froze, thinking for a moment that Vernon was here. But instead of seeing his angry and overweight uncle, a young adult with black hair and green eyes entered. He wore a black coat, brown pants and a white shirt peeked from underneath. His eyes met Harry's and he smiled.

"You're awake! Are you alright there, little guy?"

Now Harry was very confused. The man had asked if he was alright? No-one had ever done that before. But he managed to regain his bearings and uttered "y-yes, sir."

The man didn't seem convinced, so he walked to Harry's bedside and leaned down. Harry instinctively flinched, since usually whoever touched him would only want to harm him, but the man just placed a hand on his little forehead, like he had seen Petunia do with Dudley once when his cousin was sick.

The man pulled his hand away and kept smiling at him. "You gave me quite the scare there back in the forest. What were you doing there?"

Harry tried to reply, but found himself confused. "Forest?"

The man tilted his head with a curious look in his eyes. "You mean you don't remember? I carried you here after I found you lying in the forest." Harry just shook his head. There wasn't a forest near Privet Drive.

The man just let out another smile before he pulled out a small loaf of bread from his coat and handed it to Harry. The young Potter was hesitant to take it, but eventually relented to the man's prodding. He took the loaf and began eating it with fervor. He had already taken a few bites when the man grasped his shoulder. "Whoa, slow down little guy, you'll choke."

While a tad startled by the sudden contact, Harry chewed slowly this time, making sure to savor the taste of the bread. He eventually finished the bread and rubbed his little tummy in satisfaction. He hadn't had this much to eat since…ever!

The man just kept smiled and at him and dusted off some of the crumbs before speaking once more. "What's your name kid?"

"H-Harry, sir."

"Harry, huh? Pleased to meet you Harry. My name is Kazuto. I'm a hunter."

"Kazuto?" Harry asked, the word feeling foreign on his tongue.

"Yeah, that's my name. Where are you from?"

"Um, Surrey, sir." The man gave him an odd look and scratched his chin. "Surrey? Never heard of it. Where is it?"

"England, sir." Kazuto kept giving him a funny look. Now Harry was confused. Did he not know what England was? "Sir, where am I?"

"You're in Greegham Town in Fiore." Harry just got more confused. Fiore? What's that? Kazuto however shrugged and said "Well, it doesn't matter where you're from. How did you arrive in the forest? Magic?"

Harry's mind immediately flashed back to the beating his uncle had given him before tearing his precious book. He unconsciously drew his little knees closer as he winced at the memory. He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder once more, and he saw Kazuto looking at him with a concerned expression.

"Take it easy kid. I'm not gonna hurt you. Did you run away from home or something?" Harry meekly nodded, but he kept his mouth shut. "Did your relatives hurt you?" Harry nodded again, now looking away from Kazuto. "Well, don't worry. They won't hurt you anymore."

Harry sighed in relief. They really couldn't hurt him anymore but…what now? Where could he go? Kazuto noticed the troubled look on Harry's face and patted his back lightly. "If you want you can stay here. From the look of things, you don't have anywhere to go, and it does get lonely here sometimes." Harry blinked and looked at Kazuto's eyes with shock. "R-really? I can stay here?"

"Heh-heh, sure you can kid. The more the merrier after all. I promise I won't hurt you like whoever you ran away from." Harry was too overwhelmed by the offer. He could stay? He wouldn't hurt him like the Dursleys? All Harry could do was sniff and whisper "thank you."

 **-OBW-**

After his injuries were healed, Harry had taken up Kazuto's offer to stay with him and it was the best thing that he felt had ever happened to him. The hunter never mistreated him and always answered any questions that he had (though he didn't ask much). Kazuto had noticed that Harry was lacking in knowledge in a few things, so he had taught him how to read. He even got new clothes and food! He was still rather cautious though; his years of mistreatment made sure of that.

When they entered the village square for the first time, Harry noticed a nearby bookshop. After getting permission from Kazuto, he entered the store where the shopkeeper smiled warmly at him and welcomed him in. What he found thanks to the books shocked him: namely the fact that he wasn't in England anymore. He wasn't even sure if he was on Earth anymore! Two things however made his jaw drop and would've kept dropping into the earth if it could; _magic and dragons existed._

He finally understood what Kazuto meant by that when he asked him how did he end up in the forest. Apparently magic existed here and people could use it. Was that what had happened to him? Was he brought here by magic?

The fact that he discovered dragons existed nearly made him squeal in delight. It was so awesome! They looked just like the ones in his books, even better! There was even one dragon, clad in black, that was said to be the most dangerous of them all, although he didn't see any name. Kazuto had seen Harry's fascination and talked to him about it. While sharing it, he warned the boy not to seek that dragon out. Harry had agreed upon seeing the look on Kazuto's face, but it didn't deter the desire to see it from within him.

In short, Harry felt like he couldn't be happier. Until…

 **-OBW-**

A month later, Harry was walking down the street eating another loaf of bread. Kazuto had gone shopping and told him to wait outside, giving him the bread to placate the boy. As he ate, he kept looking at the bookstore. There was this book that he wanted to read, so when he was done eating he would go there. Harry had swallowed the last piece of bread and was about to head to the book store when he heard screaming coming from the village. He turned his head to see what was wrong only to see several houses go up in flames. Screams soon rang out, and amidst the chaos he could hear cackling coming from the flames. Harry tried to run, but another explosion rocked him off his feet. Het got up and tried to see what was happening.

He saw black cloaked men with swords and weapons burning down the village and attacking anyone that passed by. Some of them lifted their hands and giant fireballs shout out and burnt everything in their wake. _Magic._

Harry panicked and tried to look for Kazuto, but he could barely see or hear anyone against the smoke and flames. He did find an empty alley though and ducked in. Making sure no one saw him, he peeked outside only to keep seeing those men destroy anything they saw. Out of the corner of his eye however, he saw Kazuto, holding his bow and trying to shoot down the attackers.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and kept watching. Kazuto kept firing arrows until he tried and failed to reach one due to an empty quiver. Harry took this moment to call out "Mr. Kazuto! Help!"

The hunter turned his head to Harry with a relieved expression and took a step forward to reach him. But before he took another step, fire erupted behind his back and through the hunter's chest, making him fall to the ground. Harry gazed in horror at what he had just seen. He couldn't comprehend the sight of the first person to treat him kindly die. He quickly rushed to Kazuto's side and tried to wake him up, but to no avail.

He had no time to cry for a loud thumping noise was heard. He looked up with tears in his eyes only to see a tall figure clad in black metal and holding a flaming axe in one hand. In the other was a flag with the head of a wolf against a crescent moon. Under the wolf were the words: Midnight Wolf.

Harry was frozen in fear as the armored figure stepped forward and kicked him, sending him flying into the remains of the bookstore. He groaned in pain as he tried to stand up, only to feel his body burn with pain… _just like at the Dursleys._

He managed to turn his head though, just a slight turn. Meeting his gaze was a small drawing of the black dragon that got ripped from the book. His mind flashed back to what Vernon had done to him and his book before he arrived here. He started to panic when he heard the footsteps of the armored man drawing closer towards him.

' _No…not again…he told me…no one was going to…to hurt me anymore…they took him from me…'_ he saw the picture again and his mind flashed again to the descriptions of the dragons he had read about, how they could burn an army and how nothing stopped them. Once more, his mind and magic cried for help.

Just as the armored figure stepped closer to him, he felt his body twist and he blacked out. All of that happened in a flash of light.

 **-OBW-**

It was cold.

Cold wasn't an unfamiliar sensation for Harry. There were a few times where he would be locked outside the house or his cupboard nearly froze during the winter, so he was rather acquainted with cold, not in a way any normal human would like though. What was weird this time was the feeling of lying on something cold, soft and wet. The green-eyed boy groaned as he tried to lift himself up or at least focus his eyes, but the pain he had received earlier still took a toll on his body so he couldn't properly focus. Nonetheless, he tried to prop himself up with one hand and managed to rub an eye. After he managed to partially restore his vision, he found the answer to the quandary about the soft and cold sensations that he was feeling.

Harry was lying on a large bank of snow that stretched out as far as his coherent eye could see. A few trees were scattered around him, standing solitary against the white landscape. Up in the distance, against the setting sun, Harry could make out the faint shape of a mountain covered in snow. Harry looked around him and saw that with the exception of the mountain, everything else was pretty much the same. The cold wind and his growing fear made the frail child shiver.

' _W-what happened?'_ he thought. _'I was eating when the village just went up in flames, then those bad men attacked and…'_ he slowly widened his eyes in horror as he realized what happened; his village was attacked and Kazuto was dead. He silently started to weep in sadness and confusion. What now?

Harry was broken from his worried and tearful thoughts once more when he managed to get a glimpse of a black dot in the horizon near the mountain. As the seconds passed by, he could see the dot growing bigger and bigger, as well as hearing a faint flapping sound. Harry kept looking at the black dot for a few seconds before he realized something: it wasn't getting bigger, it was getting _closer_! He panicked and tried to run away, but his injuries prevented him from properly moving, so he only crawled a foot before he saw a large shadow covering him and something heavy crashing down behind him. He slowly turned his head only to receive the shock of his life.

Standing above him, on four bulky arms, was a massive creature with black feathery wings. Its body was muscular and built like a human's, and a massive black tail stuck out from underneath it. A large round head with four large plates stared at him with beady white eyes. Blue markings decorated its head, tail and wings. Its jaw was massive, filled with white razor-sharp teeth.

 _A dragon._ But not just any dragon; the black dragon that Kazuto had warned him against.

Normally, a person would either scream, try to run, or faint at the sight of such a monstrous creature, but not Harry. He just gazed in shock and awe at the creature. _'It really is true'_ he thought. _'He really does exist.'_ For a minute, both dragon and human just stared at each other, neither of them moving. Then, the dragon snarled and dove its head towards Harry intent on attacking him. Immediately Harry panicked as he tried to defend himself by raising his tiny arms (no matter how futile the action seemed). Just before the dragon's jaw reached him and gobbled him up, Harry felt something rush within his body and up his arm. A shockwave shot out of it and hit the dragon square in the snout, which made the dragon flick his head upwards and away from Harry. He tried to run, but he found that he couldn't move.

The dragon shook its head and looked at the boy again. It snarled once more, but this one was slower and fainter. It then bent its head down and did something that astounded Harry once more: it began to speak.

" **Who are you, boy?"**

Harry was just to astounded to reply. It could talk? He had never read about anything like that! He didn't answer though and that must've annoyed the dragon, because it yelled **"Speak!"**

Harry nearly jumped at the dragon's tone and stammered out "I-I'm Harry."

" **How did you get here?"**

"M-my village was attacked by bad magicians and they killed my friend. Then…I don't know."

The dragon snorted and kept looking at him before slowly bending his head down and sniffing at him. **"There is more you are not telling me. Your scent is foreign, a scent of magic that I cannot recognize. Lie to me again and I shall be most displeased. How did you get** _ **here?**_ **"** he asked, putting emphasis on the last word.

Harry gulped in fear as he stared into the dragon's eyes. How did he know? But he didn't want to be eaten so he said "M-my uncle beat me when he saw my book, I wanted him to stop and I…just appeared at the village."

The dragon growled once more before sniffing Harry again. When he was done, he lay down cross-armed on the snow, his gaze never leaving Harry's. He eventually asked **"Where are you from?"**

"E-England."

" **I do not recognize that name. You are not from Fiore, are you? By the scent of your magic, you came from another world."**

"Um…I think so, sir" Harry replied, although he wasn't really sure at what the dragon was talking about.

The dragon snorted and kept staring at Harry, his head sometimes teetering to the side. He eventually asked **"Your…uncle, you said he beat you. Why didn't you stop him?"**

Harry winced at the memories that question bought up, including his own feeling of powerlessness as he suffered. "I…I don't know. I…was…too weak." Tears started to form in his eyes as he realized what happened to him. His precious book was gone and Kazuto was dead.

The dragon noticed this and asked **"Why are crying, whelp?"**

"I-I don't have a home, I have nowhere to go and m-m-my friend d-d-d-died. H-he t-t-tried to f-f-fight them but…" Harry couldn't go on through his sobbing.

" **So your friend was weak then. Just like you."** the dragon remarked. Harry shot a glare at the dragon for insulting his friend Kazuto. "He wasn't weak!" he cried. "I'm not weak too!"

" **The fact that he died so easily and the fact that you couldn't defend yourself says that you are both weak."** "You're lying!" Harry shouted. **"I have no reason to lie to you, human"** the dragon replied, huffing in what looked like exasperation.

Harry just sat silently, glaring at the dragon for what he had said. The thing that stung though, was the fact that it was true; he _was_ weak.

"I'll show you" he muttered. The dragon snapped his gaze back at Harry as he managed to finally stand up on his frail legs. "I'll show you! I'm not weak!" he yelled.

The dragon just stared at him for a while, his gaze matching Harry's green eyes. The dragon then let out a slow chuckle and asked **"Tell me boy, do you desire power? Do wish to be strong?"**

"I want to be strong! I don't want anyone to hurt me again!" Harry yelled. "I want to be strong like a…" he flashed back to his time in the school library and the bookstore, remembering the one creature that he had read was stronger than anything else. "I want to be strong like a dragon!"

The dragon stared at him in what seemed like open shock before erupting into laughter that echoed around him. He then rose up and stared at the boy, spreading his wings wide and baring his teeth into a grin. **"You want power? Then you shall have it. You desire strength? Then you shall achieve it. I will grant you power unequaled among men…"** Harry's expression grew hopeful.

" **For I am Acnologia, the Dragon King. You shall be my dragonslayer…and my son."**

* * *

 **What do you think? If you see anything that might seem too OOC, then don't worry; all will be explained next chapter.**

 **I am looking for a character that I can pair up with Harry that while stop him from being an omnicidal maniac, will still understand his reasons and allow to "be badass" as it will. NO SLASH and Fairy tail-verse characters only. If there isn't one I might have to make an OC. Anyone have any suggestions? THIS IS IMPORTANT FOR THE STORY!**

 **Go check out my other stories and challenges!**

 **Read and Review!**


	2. Chapter 1 - Acnologia

**Hi! Wow, I didn't expect this story to be this popular so fast! I guess I'm doing something right! Hope you guys can give the same love to my other stories and challenges!**

 **Hope you all enjoy and constructive critisicm is welcome!**

* * *

 **Chapter 1 – Acnologia**

Mount Zonia was a towering peak located in the remote snowladen land near Fiore's North-Eastern coast.

Standing tall, far from the nearest town, it was a mountain renowned for its quiet beauty and frigid weather. Sitting in the epicenter of an eternal blizzard, a near spotless blanket of the purest snow covered everything as far as the eye could see. The cause of the mountains endless winter was something that few cared about, though the ones that did attributed it to magical phenomena, refusing to believe that such a storm could be natural. With a thick fog and wispy clouds obscuring the peak, it should come to no surprise that its mysterious aura would inspire superstitions amongst the locals that dared to approach the mountains base.

One such tale spoke of two angels, one birthed from the shadows with wings to match and the other with wings that could match the purest dove, who fought over a man whose identity had been lost to time. In the end, the angel of white emerged from the battle, crippled but victorious, and blessed the mountain with its everlasting snowfall to hide the scars left by their battle. That, of course, is merely a legend spoken by the superstitious to all who will listen.

Few can claim to have successfully climbed to the peak of this mountain making it the perfect place to hide from the public eye, so long as they didn't mind the year-long cold and chilling winds. Adding to the remoteness of the mountain, it stood a surprising distance from the warmer mountain ranges to the East, deterring any would-be mountain climbers or thrill-seekers; even those seeking a euphoric rush of danger wouldn't climb such a mountain where death was almost guaranteed.

It was for this reason that the Dragon King, Acnologia, chose this place as his refuge.

Peaceful, quiet, remote, and far from one of his least favorite creatures on Earthland: Humans. He couldn't stand nor understand the pathetic little creatures and they personified the one thing he couldn't stand, the one thing that he hated above all else: weakness.

Over the course of his immense lifespan, many of the insects had tried to lay claim to his head, disillusioning themselves with the thought that they could conquer him and mount his head as a trophy like they did with their little beasts. They were met with the same agonizing end that came to all beings believing themselves his superior.

One could say that it was due to his lack of understanding of this weakness that led to his hate for it. As one of the most, if not the most, powerful beings in Fiore, even in the entire world, the concept was so utterly alien to him that he couldn't comprehend that others were unable to obtain the same level of power as he did all those years ago. Here though, on the snowy slopes of his mountain, he had peace and quiet, undisturbed by the outside world. Here he could live in solitude with the only creature he cared for; himself.

He supposed one could consider it ironic, the fact the he too was human, once upon a time. Over 400 years ago, a war had broken out between dragons and the humans they oppressed. Thanks to their superior strength, it wasn't long before it had seemed as though the dragons would come out on top. Luckily for the humans, there had been a few dragons who spoke out against the war, those who cared for the humans and allied themselves with them. Foreseeing that they were fighting losing war, the humans and dragons fused their magic together, giving humanity the power to push back and defeat their adversaries: the power of the Dragonslayers. Among those chosen few, a young blue-haired child stood out as exceptionally powerful.

But that was long ago, another time, another life. He had since overcome and forgotten that weakness he had possessed.

So it was there, on the peak of the lonely mountain that Acnologia rested, lost in his empty thoughts until a wave of magic washed over him.

The great being known as the Dragon King grunted in annoyance and opened a beady white eye. Even after so many years, humans still seemed to believe their paltry magic could pierce his scales. For a moment he debated on whether he should even deign to give such a weak attack a response before noticing something… unusual about the magic. It felt like the magic was searching—for lack of a better word—for something. For… him?

It was a stark enough change from the norm that it gave him pause, allowing him to further learn about the strange magic. It felt far different from what he was used to, far different from any kind of magic he had experience before. It was almost as if-

And just like that it was gone.

It was enough to leave even him confused. Was this some new magic the insects had made to hunt him down?

It seemed as though he would soon receive his answer as the same magic flashed some distance away, one the white plains at the foot of the mountain.

Taking a deep breath, he found a far too familiar scent tied to the magic.

' _ **A human?'**_ He narrowed his eyes in the direction of the scent. _**'These insects are getting bold.'**_

On a normal day, the fearsome dragon would ignore any such disruptions and return to his slumber. He had lived far too long for a human to surprise him. However, the strange and foreign magic this human had brought with it had piqued his curiosity.

It helped that he was bored. He might as well stretch his muscles a little.

The undefeated dragon rose from his resting space and spread his wings. He was truly a sight to behold, with wings that could blot out the sun and indestructible scales that shimmered under the sparse light, he had paralyzed entire armies of mortals with his mere appearance on the battlefield.

A sense of satisfaction overcame him as he remembered their terrified looks at his mere gaze.

With a leap off the ground and a beat of his wings, he took off in the direction of the scent.

Reaching the foot of the mountain, he tracked the scent as he soared over the snowy field, each beat of his wings sending clouds of snow back into the air. It wasn't long before his draconic eyes caught sight of the source of the strange magic, though it took a moment to make sure it wasn't some kind of illusion.

Surely even humans couldn't be this impudent?

' _ **A child?'**_

It was obvious the small human had noticed his approach as it attempted to run away from the flying dragon. Acnologia flew closer and soon enough landed hard enough for the snow around them to obscure even his massive form, leaving nothing for the child to see but a pair of slitted eyes staring through the cloud as the force of his landing knocked the boy down.

It was obvious now that it truly was a flesh and blood human child. One with messy black hair and a dark, tattered shirt that exposed his small frame to the dragon, even his pants had holes in them with bruises showing through them, and the way the child held one arm implied further injury. The scent of flames lingered on the small human.

It was none of these, however, that truly caught his attention. What caught his attention the most were his eyes. Behind a set of glasses—if he remembered the name correctly—were a pair of deep green eyes. That in and of itself was nothing strange, the astonishing thing was the emotion behind them.

Normally when humans gazed upon his form, it was with looks of total fear, pure horror, and sometimes even hatred. Other beings may be discomforted by such looks, but not the Dragon King. Looks such as those merely served as a reminder that they were weaker than him and could do nothing to stop him.

It was oh so satisfying.

But this child, this insignificant whelp of a human, held no fear or hate in his eyes; at least none that he could see. Instead, his eyes seemed filled with awe and… wonder?

In a brief moment of befuddlement, the mix of his own confusion and the child's wonder—two things he rarely if ever experienced—sent him into a flash of rage.

How dare this insect mock him! He was the Black Dragon of the Apocalypse, a symbol of fear and strength! He wasn't some puny hero of a fairytale for children to get starry-eyed at!

He dropped his snout down in front of the child, jaw open and teeth as large as the boy himself ready to tear the child apart. He would teach this boy to fear him before he ended his insignificant life. As he prepared to tear the boys arm off, the boy did something that he had never thought possible.

The child raised his uninjured arm in a moment of panic and Acnologia—the dragon known as the strongest in history—smashed his jaw into some sort of invisible barrier, causing him to reel back in pain.

He stared at the child in disbelief, running his tongue over his teeth to ensure he wasn't imagining things. He couldn't believe it; it had lasted but a second yet he had felt something he hadn't felt for centuries: pain. No one had caused him pain in such a long time, how had a child—a **human** child—done so?

He stared down his snout at the boy who, seemingly having realized what had nearly happened, now held some fear in his eyes, though—much to Acnologia's annoyance—the awe and wonder from before still remained.

Rising to his full height, he stared down at the whelp that had caused him pain and asked, **"Who are you, boy?"**

The child merely stared at him with an open mouth.

Acnologgi growled at the lack of response. He dared defy _him_?! " **Speak!"**

The boy, startled, spat out his answer. "I-I'm Harry."

Harry? A weak name for a weak insect. " **How did you get here?** "

"M-My village was attacked by b-bad magicians and they killed my friend. I… I don't know what happened next," he stuttered out in rightful fear.

The Dragon King leaned closer and stared at the child. With his superb senses, he could detect even the minute fluctuations in someones magic when they lied to him. There were no lies in what the boy said, but it was obvious to him that there was more to it; the foreign magic that radiated off of him wasn't something that could just come from an unstable core. He had never encountered anything like it, certainly not in this world… hm.

" **There is more than what you are telling me. I do not recognize your magic, it is far to foreign to be from this land. Lie to me, or omit the truth again, and I will be** _ **most**_ **displeased. Now, how did you get** _ **here**_ **?** "

The child's eyes widened in shock, seeming to realize what the dragon was referring to. "M-My uncle beat me when he saw my book. I-I wanted him to st-stop and I… appeared at the village."

Acnologia growled, not detecting any lies from the boy. He set himself down on the snow, folding his forelegs over one another, never taking his eyes off the child. ' _ **So, he was abused by his family?**_ ' He mentally snorted. Typical humans, not caring the least for their own kind or kin. Just another reason to hate the insects—the for their unwillingness to care (not that _he_ cared) and the abused for being too weak to stand up for themselves.

" **What country are you from?** " He eventually asked.

"England, s-sir," came the answer.

Acnologia mentally raised an eyebrow at that. He couldn't ever remember being called sir before. Still, he searched his memory for a place matching the one the boy had mentioned. Even in his vast memory, he couldn't think of any country, past or present, matching that name. Combined with the foreign magic, there were few options left and only one that he cared to entertain.

" **I do not recognize that name. You are not from Earthland, are you? By the scent of your magic, I'd say you came from another world entirely.** "

"U-Um, yes, sir." A hint of confusion made its way into his eye, suggesting that the boy himself wasn't entirely sure it was correct.

He examined the child, taking in the visible wounds on the frail body. A few looked recent, no doubt from these 'bad magicians' the child had mentioned, but the majority looked rather old, likely from this uncle of his.

The dragon frowned in distaste. If the boy didn't enjoy being hurt so much, then why did he not stop this uncle? Why did he not tear the man to pieces?

He might as well ask. " **Your uncle… you say he beat you. Why did you not stop him?** "

The child grimaced as though remembering the beatings he had gotten to receive such wounds. Eventually the child replied, albeit with tears in his eyes and a shiver to his form, though if it was from the memories or cold, Acnologia knew not. Humans were such fragile creatures. "I…" the boy swallowed a lump in his throat, "I don't know. I-I," he sniffled, "I was too w-weak."

Acnologia wasn't expecting such a response. The boy had actually admitted to being weak? No normal human, child or not, would freely admit something like that out of the blue.

The boys tears continued as the dragon took in his answer, quickly turning into sobs that grated Acnologia's earfins. It was obvious he wouldn't be talking coherently any time soon.

' _ **Great**_ ,' he thought, ' _ **now I need to calm him down if I want him to talk again.**_ ' Ignoring the fact that he had no experience in doing such a thing, he simply asked, " **Why are you crying, whelp?** "

"I-I don't have a home, I have nowhere to go and m-m-my friend d-died. H-he t-t-tried to f-f-fight them but-but he..." the child trailed off, still sobbing. Ah, so that was the reason. Well, there was no question as to why he died, at least in Acnologia's mind

" **Then your friend was weak. Just like you** ," he remarked.

In a pathetic attempt at intimidation, the boy glared at him and cried, "He wasn't weak!"

Typical human. " **If he wasn't weak, he would not have died so easily. You were both too weak.** " To Acnologia, it was simply the truth and nothing more.

The boy thought otherwise as he shouted, "You're lying!"

The dragon huffed in exasperation at the denial before him. " **I have no reason to lie to you, boy.** " Why did humans always deny the truth even when it was irrefutable?

The child continued his pathetic glare, though he didn't say anything else.

After a moment, he shakily stood and yelled at the behemoth before him, "I'll show you! I'm not weak!"

Normally, Acnologia wasn't one to believe in paltry things such as destiny or fate, to say nothing of prophecies, even ones predicted with magic held little weight and could be thrown off by merely having knowledge of the event, but when the boy stood up, still wounded and announced his desire, he felt something within the boy. Something that he himself had been told he had plenty of when he had been chosen as one of the first Dragon Slayers: potential.

With that thought, something seemed to click in Acnologia's head. A child with a desire for power and hatred for weakness, one originating from another dimension that just happened to be transported right to his domain through foreign magic. Subconsciously, even if he wouldn't admit it, the black dragon began connecting certain dots. If he really planned to do what he was thinking, then the human would have to be special, utterly unique, and a little mage from another world certainly fit the criteria.

The black dragon let out a slow chuckle, the rumbling noise gaining the boys attention. White met green as the bane of all dragons asked, " **Tell me, boy, do you desire power? Do you wish for strength beyond mortal kind?** "

"I want to be strong! I don't want anyone to hurt me again!" The boy yelled, "I want to be strong like… like…" he trailed off for a moment, before realizing the perfect example of strength was a mere stone's throw away. "I want to strong like a dragon!"

Acnologia chuckled slowly before it turned into raucous laughter that disturbed the snow around them. This was what he was looking for! This is what he wanted! More than anything, the Dragon King desired a challenge, a battle where he could fight at his full strength. He had yet to find anyone who could grant him such a pleasure, not since that damnable wizard in black had disappeared, so, when the child proclaimed his desire, an old human saying popped into his head that fit the situation perfectly: If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.

If he couldn't find anyone that could give him a challenge, he would _make_ one that could do so. What better challenge was there than on such as himself?

With a grin on his face that would terrify all but the hardiest of beasts, he stood to his full height once more and spread his wings wide, engulfing the boy in shadows. " **You wish for power? Then you shall have it. You desire strength? Then you shall achieve it. I will grant you power beyond mortal men…** "

" **For I am Acnologia, the Dragon King. And you? You shall be my Dragon Slayer… and my son.** "

 **-OBW-**

It had been a week since Acnologia had taken Harry in as his son and needless to say, he had been thorough in his training. Having decided to do away with the boy's thin frame, the dragon had put him through a series of rigorous physical tests that most his age would have despaired over. After discovering that the foreign magic seemed to respond to the boys need for warmth and rest, Acnologia hadn't hesitated to capitalize on letting the boys magic do his work for him by forcing him to sleep against the rocks, away from the dragon, and giving the boy just enough rest to keep him healthy and no more.

What surprised Acnologia the most was the lack complaints from the child.

As for Harry himself, it hadn't taken him long to understand his new father's training regime. Having started the morning after he had been brought to the mountain, Acnologia had given him no time to grieve for his fallen friend and had immediately forced him to go to sleep only to wake him up early the next morning for training. Still, he never once protested or complained; he didn't want his body to be weak, after all.

It had helped that the Dursleys had made him sleep in a cramped cupboard with little heat and had worked him to exhaustion every day for no other reason than him being a 'freak'. He had learned not to complain or question when told to do something, especially when the person telling him to do something was a massive dragon that had promised to train him.

He didn't want to let his new father down, after all.

The only true downside was the fact that he was given no time to grieve for Kazuto, something that gave him nightmares and disturbed his sleep. He would often see his friend's anguished face amidst a burning village as he was cut down by that armored man.

Still, he didn't complain.

But even with the unknowing support of his inner magic, Harry's frail body and mind could only endure so much. So it was that on the seventh night, a snowstorm blew over the mountain and Harry had had enough. As Acnologia slept unperturbed by the freezing cold, Harry woke from another heart-wrenching nightmare as he shivered from the cold. With a glance around, he noticed that the snow around the dragon had melted from the warmth of his scaled body. Despite his mind telling him that he shouldn't bother the dragon, his body slowly got up and hobbled over to the dragon.

Without a word, he lay down and curled up against his father's warm body.

" **What are you doing, whelp?** " Acnologia growled, having been woken by the boys strange magic moving closer before settling against his own body.

His only reply was a dazed, "You're warm."

" **I told you to sleep over there."**

Harry didn't listen, and even dared push himself a little closer. "It's cold and you're really warm."

Acnologia merely grumbled in frustration. Why did humans have to be so fragile? The whelp hadn't complained once in the past week, so why now? The most frustrating part was that he couldn't refute the boy's logic, knowing that even with his magic, it was a miracle the boy hadn't complained about the cold before now.

He adjusted his head to see the whelp's now sleeping form to nudge him away when an image flashed in his head, overlapping reality with a past he wished to forget. A little girl, lying wounded on the cold ground had replaced the frail boy for but a moment, but it was enough to give him pause. He stared at the boy for a moment as if the girl would return. Eventually, he sighed in resignation. If he was really going to go through with this, then he couldn't afford to cut corners; it wouldn't do for his challenge-in-the-making to break down before he had even taught him any magic.

He curled his tail around the boy and extended a wing over the makeshift hovel to block out the cold. " **I suppose it can't be helped. Tomorrow, we're going to the nearest human settlement to acquire some clothes for you, but you will learn to take care of yourself.** "

If he wished to train a dragon, he would first need to learn to raise a human.

 **-OBW-**

Harry woke to a warmth that he couldn't recall ever feeling before. He rubbed his eyes, moving his brittle glasses and noticed that the rocks he usually slept on were further away than before. The rumbling voice he had come to associate with his new father made him turn his head.

" **Wake up, whelp.** "

He turned to see the dragon practically wrapped around him. Not remembering the night before, it should come to no surprise that he was rather confused. Why would his father help him deal with the cold now when he had been content to let him freeze every other night?

" **We are going to get you some supplies,** "Acnologia said, lifting himself up and holding out a black claw for him. **"Get on."** There was no way he was going to let a human ride on his back. He wasn't one of those pack animals humans rode on.

Snapping out of his trance, Harry climbed onto the dragons open palm after which Acnologia closed his hand enough to keep the child secure.

With a mighty beat of his wings, Acnologia and Harry were soon soaring across the snow covered land. Despite the nearest settlement being over a hundred kilometers away, Acnologia could easily make it across that distance in a few minutes, even with the need to keep his passenger safe.

As they soared across the empty sky, Harry took in the passing landscape with a look of awe. The stress and exhaustion of the past week was forgotten as he became entranced by this new look at the world around him. It wasn't long before the snowy plains were replaced by a grassy countryside, leaving the displaced child reveling in this new sense of freedom.

It was enough to make him proclaim to the world and his father, "Now I really want to be a dragon if I could fly like this!"

Unexpectedly for Harry, Acnologia was able to hear his voice over the roaring winds thanks to his enhanced senses. " **You will do so in due time. I would expect no less from** _ **my**_ **Dragon Slayer.** "

Soon enough, the two landed several kilometers away from the nearest town, called Kilika, far from any prying eyes.

Harry was left confused as his exhilaration died down. "Why couldn't we land closer?"

" **Don't complain, whelp. Now get off.** "Harry opened his mouth to protest but was cut off. " **Now!** "Harry stood there for a second before jumping off the now-open palm, grumbling as he did so.

"Don't do that. It's unbecoming of you," his father ordered, his voice sounded far quieter than any other time he had heard the dragon speak.

Turning quickly, Harry saw that, instead of a dragon, a man stood before him. Standing tall with defined muscles, the man's dark skin and shark eyes were a stark contrast to most men Harry met. There were strange blue marking adorning his arms and face similar to tattoos and his long blue hair was something Harry had never seen before. The man's high-collared cloak and baggy pants were black with blue markings along them as well. Around his neck was the one item on him that didn't seem to be either black or blue: a necklace of crimson teeth.

Harry blinked in confusion. What had happened to his father?

"You didn't think I would enter a human town in that form, did you?" The man's condescending tone matched his father's perfectly.

While a bit baffled at the man's statement, his little jaw slowly dropped as he connected the dots in his head. "Did you just…?" he gestured to the man.

The man—or rather, Acnologia—raised a brow. He was expecting a bit more of a reaction, if he was honest. Still, no time for delays. "We're wasting time, follow me." He turned towards the town Harry had spotted in the distance and started walking, Harry close behind.

They soon reached the small town. It was a rather unremarkable one, nothing really stood out amongst the shops or people.

As the two walked through the town, Harry looked up at his father and asked, "How did you do that? Turn into a human I mean." He hadn't read anything in his books that said dragons could turn into humans!

While annoyed at his son's sudden questioning, he supposed he did owe him an answer, even if it would go over his head. "I use a very special kind of magic called Dragon Slayer Magic. My type of magic in particular allows me to absorb the energy of the pathetic dragons I have slain. The more I slay, the more my power grows, until it enabled me to reach this form. While it is weaker, it is rather functional for many situations such as this one."

Harry just gave him a weird look. "I don't understand." He said.

' _Maybe he isn't as observant as I thought he was.'_

After buying some clothes (consisting of pants, sandals and shirts) using money Acnologia had scavenged from the frozen corpses of those he had slain—those that had their packs intact, that was—the two headed back to the main street. They passed by a small bakery, where several pastries were left out to cool, letting their aroma spread. Harry took a whiff and was reminded by all the bread and pastries he ate with Kazuto. He tried to turn towards the bakery, but his father pulled him back.

"We don't have time for this, whelp. We have to –"

Whatever he was going to say was cut off by a loud gurgling sound. One look at Harry's blushing face told him all that he needed to know. For a moment he thought about continuing to pull the boy, but his decision from the night before made him pause. _'He hasn't eaten since yesterday morning, has he? I had forgotten how often mortals have to eat to stay alive.'_ Dragons in general didn't have to eat nearly as often as humans did and being as powerful as he was, he had to eat far less. It was for this reason that dragons were known to hibernate for years at a time, the longer they slept, the less they had to eat.

"What do you want to eat, brat?" He eventually asked, resignation lacing his words. Raising the child was going to be much more of a chore than he thought.

Harry just smiled before pointing at the delicious-smelling pastries.

And that was how Acnologia, feared Dragon King who had slaughtered countless humans and dragons alike, found himself sitting on a bench with his son who was happily eating a large chocolate pastry while the human-turned-dragon-in-human-form held a loaf of sourdough bread that he tore pieces of. He looked at his new protégé and admitted that he looked better than before. Now dressed in a long-sleeved shirt to match Acnologia's hair, baggy pants to match his own, and black sandals covering his ankles down while leaving the toes uncovered, the boy actually looked like a decent being when compared to what he had entered the town wearing. The only eyesore he could see were his glasses. No self-respecting dragon wore those.

"You'll have to get rid of those ridiculous things on your eyes, whelp," he remarked, tossing another piece of bread into his mouth.

Harry paused and swallowed to answer back. "But I can barely see without them."

"Your training will develop your eyesight in due time. It won't be long before you can throw those things away."

Harry brightened up at that. Kids had made fun of his glasses back in Surrey, and Petunia had gotten them for him at a thrift store only after she found out he really needed them.

As Harry went back to eating, the Dragon King noticed something on his forehead, blocked by his hair. "Brat, lift your hair up for a second." Harry did so while still munching on the pastry.

On the boy's forehead was a red scar shaped like a lightning bolt. While Acnologia had seen far stranger markings on one's body, the one on his son still looked rather strange. "How did you get that scar?"

Harry swallowed the last piece of his pastry and frowned. "My aunt told me that I got it after a car crash when my drunk parents died."

While he didn't know what a 'car crash' was, Acnologia assumed that he referred to some sort of accident. But no matter how much he thought about it, that scar looked far too precise to be caused by a mere accident. He cleared his throat and motioned for the boy to come closer. He did so and Acnologia put a finger on his son's forehead and closed his eyes.

' _Just as I suspected,'_ he thought. _'This scar was caused by a direct attack on him. One tainted with dark magic, in fact it still lingers. It might become a problem in the future, so that will have to go as well.'_

He removed his finger and was met by the boy's curious stare. "Just a little suspicion of mine. But if I'm correct, then that scar will be gone by the time I'm done with you."

Harry stared at him in awe. Nothing but pure awe and adoration was in his gaze. This was the best thing that had ever happened to him; not even Kazuto could give him what Acnologia had done! The fact that he was a dragon was just the icing on the proverbial cake.

Without thinking, he threw himself at Acnologia and hugged him. "Thank you," he whispered.

The dragon froze at the unexpected sign of affection, so confusing was the action that he didn't even attempt to remove the boy from around his waist. Eventually he just sighed and marked down as another oddity from the human. Besides, Harry wasn't going to be a carbon copy of him; what fun would that be when they clash?

Still, it was a bit uncomfortable for him so he grunted and said, "Get off me, brat."

Harry did so with some reluctance since he didn't want to anger his father. Instead, he just got another annoyed stare, rather than an angry one.

"Try not to do that again, it's embarrassing."

Harry nodded.

After making sure all of their things were accounted for, the two walked back to the clearing they had landed in. Acnologia dropped the bags at Harry's feet before walking over to the center of the clearing. He turned his head to the sides a few times before turning to Harry with a smirk, revealing two fangs in his teeth and a wicked gleam in his eye.

"Don't get comfortable whelp, because when we get back I will train you so hard that you will beg for death. But I believe a little incentive is in order; should you master the power of the Dragon Slayer, this is what will await you…"

With those words, a blue aura appeared around Acnologia and his hair rose up. A crack of thunder later, and two large wings sprouted from behind his back. There was a flash of light, and where the man once stood, the form of the Dragon King appeared, towering over the boy, who gazed at the whole scene wide-eyed.

"… **so don't disappoint me brat."**

 **-OBW-**

True to his word, when they made it back to the mountain, Acnologia made Harry run around the mountain several times. When he was finished, the Dragon King transformed into his human form and sparred (read: aggressively attacked) the boy until he learned to dodge, which was all he could do. Afterwards, he made the boy attempt to climb the mountain, something he only achieved thanks to his foreign magic. By the time the sun set, Harry's body had ached like never before and he was left panting on the ground with several wounds, feeling like his limbs were on fire. What was worse was the queasiness he felt in his stomach, which he later learned was caused by the pastry he had eaten.

' _He let me eat that on purpose,'_ he thought with irritation. _'He just had to.'_

As his breathing started to calm, he attempted to move his arms only to be met with painful aches. When his vision cleared, Acnologia's human form stood above him, arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

"You survived. You're more resilient than I thought you would be. Now get up, there's food."

Harry managed to do so despite his body's protests. Following his blue-haired father to the side of the mountain, they arrived at a series of jagged rocks. In a flash of blue light, Acnologia transformed, grabbed his son and flew upwards. But instead of flying to the top, he stopped a dozen meters below it and held out his Harry-filled palm to side of the mountain.

Harry was greeted to the sight of a very large cave. A few pointed rocks (which he would come to learn later were called stalagmites) were positioned on its far side. In the center of the cave was a small fire with the roasted carcass of an animal lying near it.

The green-eyed child drooled at the scent wafting from the carcass and hopped off the dragon's hand. He ran to the hunk of meat and began rapidly tearing through it.

When Acnologia entered himself, the sight he was met with was rather amusing to him. The boy looked like a dragon already with how he ate that. He approached Harry and cleared his throat, making the boy stop and look up at him.

"From now on you will sleep here; this is a cave I use to rest in when the mountaintop becomes boring for me, so I will sometimes drop by here. I will teach you how to hunt and make your own fire so you can get your own food, so don't expect anything like again."

Harry just nodded and went back to his food. Acnologia sat down cross-legged next to him and just stared at the fire. Eventually, a stray thought wormed its way into his head. It was so unimportant and fleeting that he would normally dismiss it, but he was (re)learning things about humans, so he might as well…

"Whelp, do you have a last name?"

Harry lifted his head from his meal and gave him an odd look causing him to reiterate. "If I remember correctly, most humans have last names; do you, or don't you?"

The boy swallowed his meat and replied, "Harry Potter. My full name is Harry Potter."

Potter? What kind of a name was Potter? Did his ancestors work with pots? Certainly not a profession or a name that instilled fear and terror, that's for sure. "That's no good," he growled, "If you want to be a dragon, then you need to have a name befitting one as well."

 **(300 OST - Returns a King)**

Good, that seemed to get the boys full attention. He searched his vast mind for a name, one worthy of the son of the Dragon King. A minute of silence later and a name finally popped into his head; one that he had read many years ago, the name one who had once been known as Dragon King, long before his rise to power.

He got and walked towards the boy. "Stand." He commanded.

The boy followed the order and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, green eyes looked at him expectantly. He raised his arm and put his large hand over the boy's head, as though about to recite a prayer; which he was, in a way.

"From this day forward your old life is gone. It is ashes of the past. The life and power of a dragon awaits you, and so by my power as the Dragon King, I bestow upon you, my son, this name:

I proclaim you **Bahamut** , Son of Acnologia."

* * *

 **I have been PM'ed that Acnologia was accepting Harry as his son a bit too soon. Well, that might seem true, but remember that Acnologia does not remember or care about human customs and norms, at least not for 400 years. The 'son' thing is just something that he had seen the other dragons do and does not possess the same emotional attachment to Harry (not yet, at least). He also renames Harry as soon as possible to distance any further connection from humans (since Harry is a weak human name to him).**

 **I have also decided on the pairing, after consulting the holy guide (Wiki) and rigourous meditation. The pairing shalt be...**

 **...a secret.**

 **What should I do for next chapter?**

 **Check out my other stories and my challenges!**

 **Read and Review!**


	3. Chapter 2 - Hunting 101

**Hi! I am so happy with all the attention this story has gotten! However, my beta The Red Lurker has dropped out due to personal issues so the position is open again. I only ask that if anyone does apply, then they need to have the time to do so. This chapter was Self-Beta'd with Grammarly.  
This chapter is more of a filler chapter than anything, but it's an interesting one, so don't worry.**

 **Also, Harry arrived in Fiore on December X773, so come FT Episode/Chapter 1, he'll be around Gray's age (17-18).**

 **Hope you enjoy and constructive criticism is welcome! BETA NEEDED!**

* * *

 **Chapter 2 – Hunting 101**

 _Mt. Zonia, February X774_

 _Morning_

Harry – or Bahamut, as he was called these days - stood bow-legged with one arm in front of the other, his eyes never straying from his opponent. The air around him was completely still as every one of his senses was on full alert, waiting for the slightest movement so that he may react.

A small gust of wind blew by, and then – where did he go!?

That was all the warning Bahamut received before immediately dodging to the side as a blur crashed into the spot where he stood, leaving a hole in the snow. The green-eyed child had no more time to think as the blur jumped towards him, with him barely managing to roll sideways as another hole appeared. The blur then flashed at him once more, but this time, Harry jumped and made a sideways kick as it landed in front of him.

He hit something and tried to move, but a muscular arm shot out and grabbed his leg, throwing him back into the snow. He tried to get up, but something crashed into his body once more, sending him flying a few meters ahead.

He tried to move his arms, but his muscles protested heavily by sending a flare of pain, which made him drop to the ground.

As he struggled to at the very least, lift his head, a shadow loomed over him and a familiar, rough voice said: "You lasted one move more than the last time."

There was no haughtiness, approval or accusation in that tone. It was a simple statement of fact, casually spoken as though mentioning the current state of the weather.

Slowly, the boy raised his head, his glasses once more nearly broken from the crash and met his eyes with those of his father's, who stood there cross-armed with an emotionless expression on his face.

"Still..." He muttered. "That's two moves more than what any other human could do. That kick was a step in the right direction, although you took too long to respond."

Bahamut's face warped into a disbelieving look. Too long? He barely had any time to react at all! He opened his mouth to complain, but one look from Acnologia made him clam up, although he did grumble a little.

Acnologia just sighed and said "You will reach that level soon enough; all competent warriors, be they dragon or human, do. Now get up and follow me."

The black-haired child got up, despite his aching body and followed after his father. Inwardly he smiled. Ever since Acnologia had given him a new name, he had truly realized something for the first time since he landed on this world (which he now fully believed that he did); he was finally FREE.

No more chores, no more Harry-Hunting, no more sleeping in a closet, no longer listening to others calling him "freak", and best of all: no more abuse – no more hitting him just because people felt like it!

Okay, sometimes he did get hurt a lot more here (courtesy of his father) and sometimes in places he didn't know he had, but it was different; here, the pain was making him grow stronger – it had a purpose behind it.

As he followed Acnologia through the snow and back to the foot of the mountain (which he now learned was called Mt. Zonia), he looked at his father's cloaked form with awe and reverence; sometimes he couldn't even believe that someone as strong as him had made him his son. Kazuto was nice and all but…it just wasn't the same with him. He taught him a lot of things over the past month and a half; how to hunt and light a fire, a bit of history, some grammar and other small things. He even got more books back in Kilika!

Of course, one couldn't see it by their interactions with one another; while Acnologia did teach Bahamut some things, he wasn't really what one would call 'social' or 'caring'. When he trained him in fighting, he was ruthless and only stopped when Bahamut could no longer move. Every time they returned to the cave, the Dragon King would just fly back up to the peak of the mountain and do who-knows-what (from what Bahamut had learnt about his father, he was rather lazy so most likely he would just sleep), leaving Bahamut to either exercise, read, or just do nothing in general. There were a few times when Acnologia entered the cave for a reason that was not to take him training or to town, but during those times he would just sit with his back to his adoptive son and meditate, not making a sound.

Bahamut sometimes wanted to go and ask him a few things when he did that, but he always backed off in the end, as though an aura of intimidation and isolation surrounded the dragon-man that prevented anyone from approaching him.

Regardless of his flaws though, Bahamut couldn't ask for a better father.

The two soon reached the base of the mountain. Instead of transforming though, Acnologia bent his knees just a little bit and _leaped_ up to a crag on the mountain, grabbing onto it for a second, and leaping again up into the cave.

Bahamut just stared in awe at his father's strength. When would he get that strong? Unfortunately, he noticed something that warped his awed expression into a frown: He now had to climb up on his own.

Luckily, this had happened lately over the past two weeks, so he just grumbled in irritation before climbing up a path that he had managed to trace that would lead him up and down the mountain, and by extension, the cave.

He reached the mouth of the cave after what seemed like half an hour of climbing, where he was greeted by the sight of his father sitting cross-legged and eyes closed in the entrance, not even twitching to acknowledge his presence. Bahamut just sighed inwardly; it was nothing new.

He went to the back of the cave where a small fur rug lay near a ring of stone and ash, his firepit. Near the rug was a pile of several books. He just sat down and opened one of them, which was titled "History of Fiore".

A few minutes of silence passed in the cave as the two were engrossed in their activities (or lack of thereof). Every now and then Bahamut would peek over the pages to see if his father had moved, but the Dragon King just remained where he was, unmoving and silent as a statue.

Even so, Bahamut didn't speak out. He just waited.

Meanwhile, Acnologia was mulling over his thoughts while in his meditative state, something he had found himself doing rather often. After the little incident at the mountaintop, he had thought that actually raising his new son would irritate him more than usual with the constant attention. It did, yet surprisingly at the same time, it didn't.

For all of his awe of him, Bahamut was a rather independent and quiet child. He never questioned him, always listening to his comments and taking them in stride. He learned things rather quickly and didn't demand or request any unnecessary items when they were in the human town. Sure, he did allow him to buy books and food, but he allowed him to do so because he knew the saying that had existed since before even he was born:

"Knowledge is power." If he wanted to make a good challenge, then knowledge was also a very important factor. Despite his personality and way of fighting, he was knowledgeable in many areas. Living for 400 years, even in relative isolation, has taught him much (except for things about humans).

Besides, he hated ignorance; that was a sign of weakness.

As for buying food…that was rather obvious. While he did teach him hunting, his son had yet to actually embark on a hunt. He hoped to rectify that today.

He felt his son's gaze land on him for a second before retreating back to his book. This cycle repeated itself several times over the next 10 minutes before he heard his small voice ask "Um…what now?"

What now indeed. He supposed that he might as well get it over with, it would save him the trouble in the future. He took a deep breath and commanded: "Come here."

A pattering of feet was heard for a second before stopping. Acnologia rose up from his meditative position and turned around to look at his son.

Even though it was only a month and a half since they first met, he saw many visible changes in his young apprentice. While he was still a bit thin, signs of slowly developing muscles were seen in his arms. His messy black hair was starting to grow longer, already reaching the nape of his neck, with front bangs covering his unusual scar. He currently wore a dark-blue shirt with black cuffs, but he still retained the baggy pants and sandals from the previous month. What was especially different was his posture; he no longer seemed to shrink in n on himself (unless he was giving him the criticizing stare) and stood tall and eager, his natural curiosity slowly starting to show more openly, that fact reflected off his emerald-green eyes, which were hidden by those silly glasses.

Acnologia inwardly frowned at that last thought. Those glasses looked too ridiculous on him; they would have to go soon. _'But not now, unfortunately…'  
_

Bahamut tilted his head in curiosity and some small amount of anticipation. What did his father want?

Acnologia the blinked and cleared his throat before he began to speak once more. "I have observed your growth over the past month and by my astute observations, I believe the time is right for you to go on your first true hunt."

Bahamut widened his eyes. "R-really?"

"Yes, it will help to improve your resolve and strength, not to mention that it will lessen for me the chore of hunting so frequently." His father bluntly replied.

While Bahamut did inwardly cringe at the directness of his father's statement, he had grown used to the Dragon King's cold attitude. Plus, the prospect of going on an actual hunt sent a shiver of excitement down his spine.

"Get your gear and we will leave immediately." Acnologia said while gesturing to the back of the cave, with an underlying _'NOW!'_ in his tone.

The black-haired child quickly turned and dashed to the back of the cave. Lying against the wall was a grey satchel filled with an assortment of small items and rope. Near the satchel lay a long, wooden stick with a pointed rock tied at the tip; his makeshift hunting spear. He grabbed the items and ran back to his father, standing attentively.

Acnologia nodded and walked out of the cave with Bahamut following him, only to stop and the ledge that marked the cave's mouth. Bahamut moved to ask what was wrong, but the Dragon King suddenly grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and leaped off the mountain, crashing into the snow far below.

The green-eyed human was startled by the sudden movement but he had no time to protest as they had landed very fast. As he opened his eyes after the shock of the impact, he saw that a crater had formed around him and his father, sending another shiver of awe up his spine.

The moment was, of course, ruined when Acnologia dropped him unceremoniously onto the snow. Bahamut just got back up with his equipment (silently thankful that he hadn't let them slip during the leap) in his hands. Wordlessly, the Dragon King marched ahead with his son walking behind.

They silently kept walking through the snow, Bahamut with his mind calm and Acnologia with a bored look. At some point, when the sun had passed the mid-day mark, they had reached the border of a large forest, filled with tall trees decorated with dark-green leaves.

Acnologia turned to his son and started to give him instructions. "This will be your hunting grounds from here on out. As you can see…" he gestured to the faint outline of Mt. Zonia behind him. "Our home is not that far, so you will carry your kills back to the mountain on your own. Your task will be to hunt down a large boar along with a few small mammals, if possible. If you haven't caught your prey by the time the moon rises, you will have to go back on your own. Now go and use what I have taught you over the past month."

Bahamut nodded eagerly and started walking into the forest. He had passed by a few trees when he turned around to see if his father was still there, only to find him nowhere in sight.

' _I should've expected that.'_ He thought. Nevertheless, he took a deep breath and ventured deeper into the woods.

As he kept walking, every now and then he would use his spear to mark an "X" on one of the trees, remembering Acnologia's lesson on that:

 _"When hunting, it is important to know not only where you are going but to know where you came_ _ **from.**_ _I use my enhanced senses to find my way back and so will you in due time, but for now, you must find another way of doing so."  
_

That was perhaps the easiest lesson that he was given.

Bahamut kept trekking through the forest, paying attention to any signs of prey. His eyes were narrowed, watching every small detail along the snow and the trees. His ears, sharp and alert, listening for the slightest rumble of the ground or rustling of leaves. Every step he took was paced – hurried, yet cautious – giving him time to survey his surroundings and react should the slightest disturbance be detected. He kept doing so for some time and he could see through the leaves that the sun had moved a little from its previous position. Despite his slowly growing anxiety, he kept moving, observing and marking.

He was about to pass by a tree that was mounted on a slight slope when he noticed something below it. It looked like a small imprint that hunched over itself. Another lesson popped up in his mind:

" _Whenever you see something that seems suspicious or out of place, no matter how slightly, then it is a sign of your prey. Let not even the smallest detail be left unchecked; callousness is a weakness, one that can cost you your life."_

Sure enough, hidden by the snowbank, a small hole peeked out slightly, with tiny near-invisible tracks leading to and from it, in his opposite direction – a den!

He immediately stopped and ducked behind a nearby tree, his hands gripping his spear and satchel tightly. He had to be careful not to scare the potential prey after all. He set his spear aside as he opened the satchel and pulled out some rope and two sticks. He took a quick look at the surrounding area before he found something that could help; a large rock.

He dashed to the rock and picked it up. It did require him to drop his sticks and berries beforehand, but nevertheless, it was what he needed. He set the rock a couple of meters away from the den's opening and dashed back to his hiding spot to retrieve the berries, rope and the sticks. Upon returning, he lifted the rock and cleared the area under it of snow, put a stick to support it (it didn't break, so that was good) and placed the berries under the rock. Then, he made sure he had enough rope to reach the tree before hiding once more.

After returning to his hiding spot, he took a quick peek at his makeshift creation; the trap was simple yet effective, just like the book and Acnologia had described it. The only thing to do now was to wait. So, he waited.

He remained still behind the tree, his hand ready to pull the rope and spring the trap. He was careful not to make a single sound, lest he ruins everything. Since it was wintertime, food was scarce; an animal would be bound to come here sooner or later.

As the minutes passed by, he did his best to remain still, but Bahamut's patience was ever so slowly eroding. At one point he was about to just give up when he remembered two things that Acnologia had said; the fact that without prey he would have to walk back home and:

" _The key to catching or defeating your prey is patience. Whether you are waiting for it in the shadows or attacking it head on, you must wait until the right moment presents itself to you and when it does – strike!"_

So Bahamut just inhaled briefly and kept waiting.

An hour seemed to have passed and the sun had kept moving. Yet Bahamut waited and waited. Suddenly, a small rustling came from a nearby bush. He immediately snapped back to attention. Could it be…?

Sure enough, a small squirrel poked its head out from behind the leaves. It raised its tiny head and sniffed the air before settling its black beady eyes on the berries. A moment later, it scurried over to the berries and sniffed them a bit, unaware of the rock above its head. It took a berry and nibbled on it-

 _NOW!_

In a flash, Bahamut yanked the rope and the stick was pulled away, causing the rock to land on the rodent with a sickening CRUNCH! The poor creature's tail twitched a couple of times, before falling to the ground unmoving.

Bahamut inwardly shivered at the sight, but he showed no changes in his expression outwardly. Combining his past traumatic experiences and a father who liked to destroy things has made him less sensitive to death for a child his age, but not completely.

After making sure that the squirrel was dead, he removed the rock and put the dead carcass in his satchel. Packing up his rope and sticks, he noticed that the sun was getting close to the horizon when he turned around.

' _I have to find a boar'_ he thought. He couldn't stick around for much longer, so he grabbed his spear and dashed off into the forest.

He repeated the hunting steps once more, this time increasing his pace. With every tree he marked the sun slowly drew closer to the horizon. Bahamut kept searching with a determined expression, though he was growing nervous. What if he couldn't find a boar on time? It would take him a long time to walk back home and climb up the mountain, and he would get less time to sleep thanks to Acnologia's training regimen, which would result in him getting thrashed (more so than usual). Nonetheless, he kept looking for clues, stopping once to eat some of the berries.

He had already marked a fair number of trees since the trapping and was about to mark another one when he spotted something on the snow; tracks. His eyes widened with relief and excitement at the sight. They were big, no tail signs, hoof patterns – that meant boar! He dashed ahead, following the tracks, afraid as though they might disappear at any moment. Luckily, the snow never seemed to melt in the Mt. Zonia area and the sky was clear, so the trail remained untouched.

Bahamut kept following the trail until he came to a small clearing. He was about to enter it when he heard a grunting noise coming from up ahead. He quickly ducked behind a nearby tree and peeked out.

Just up ahead with its behind turned to him was a large boar (a bit higher than him) who was struggling to rip out what was presumably a flower. It had grey fur with brown splotches and a short black tail. Two dirty tusks protruded from its wrinkled snout. It made grunts and squeals as it attempted to rip out the plant.

Bahamut pulled his head back and let out a sigh of relief at finding a boar at such good timing. But now was the moment of truth; it was time to claim his prey.

He adjusted his satchel so that it wouldn't fall if he moved around too much and readied his spear. He peeped again to see the boar still struggling to get the plant. He would've normally waited more, but the sky turning orange with the dusk and his long time in the forest had grown on his patience, despite his father's words. So he slowly started to advance towards the beast, spear in hand, and waiting to strike.

But just as he was about to lunge, the boar quickly stopped and raised its snout, sniffing the air. It quickly turned around to meet his green eyes with black beady ones. As the two, man and beast, stared one another down, Bahamut noticed something that a normal boar shouldn't have.

' _Since when do boars have predator's teeth?'_

He had little time to register that fact though because the bovine let out a squealing roar and barreled towards the boy. It was only thanks to Acnologia's relentless training that he managed to dodge away in the nick of time just as the boar was about to crash into him. The beast skidded on its hoofs for a second before stopping and turning it snout towards him, nostrils flaring and an angry gleam in its eye.

The boar scraped its hoof against the ground twice before charging again. This time though, Bahamut was prepared and jumped to the side once more, farther away this time, evading the charging beast. But the boar turned around faster this time and charged immediately, without stopping to scrape.

As the boar charged it opened its mouth and let out a loud squeal of fury, saliva flying from its jaw. Unknown to it though, it had just secured its own demise.

Bahamut widened the gap between his legs and bent his knees. He raised the spear upwards and narrowed his eyes. Everything around him became blurred and static; only the boar and its tusked, teeth-filled jaw remained clear as day. The beast made one final leap, and that was when Bahamut _moved._

" _You must wait until the right moment presents itself to you…_

He thrust himself forward, guiding the spear towards the beast's open jaw. If anyone would have been looking at him just now, they would see a very faint, yet visible kaleidoscopic aura surrounding his arms and legs.

 _And when it does…_

It was as though time had slowed down to a crawl, the drool and tooth-filled jaw beckoning him forward as he aimed his weapon. With one thrust of his arm…

 _STRIKE!"_

…the spear pierced the bovine's inner jaw and went out its head, making it emit a high-pitched squeal of pain. Bahamut's thrusting momentum allowed him to stand his ground, but unfortunately…

SNAP!

The same could not be said for the spear.

The boar flew to the side with one half of the spear lodged in its jaw. Bahamut landed on the ground and noticed his broken spear, only to wrinkle his nose in irritation; he had spent a good amount of time making that spear.

He turned to the boar, who was now lying on its side and breathing heavily. The longer he stared at it, the heavier the breaths seemed to get.

As he stared at the creature he had just battled, some odd emotion welled up in the green-eyed child's chest. He put his free hand over it and looked at the dying boar with an odd and confused look.

' _Why…why am I feeling this way? Why do I feel bad about hurting that boar? I hunted him, I needed to kill him, I shouldn't feel sorry, I shouldn't feel sympathetic. Father said that sympathy was a weakness, so why…?'_

He was drawn from his thoughts when the boar gave out one last wheeze and fell lifeless on the ground. Bahamut kept staring at the now-dead animal, the same feeling welling up in him once more, but he then quickly shook his head and dispelled them. He shouldn't feel sorry; the boar was going to kill him too.

He went over to the carcass of the boar and examined it. He couldn't really carry it over his shoulder due to its weight, so he would have to improvise. He opened his satchel and pulled out the remaining rope, which he used to tie boar's legs together, leaving enough for him to drag. He took a deep breath and was about to pull the boar when he remembered something; something very important.

He looked all around for a few seconds and then dashed to the spot from where he had attacked the boar, only to start panicking; he forgot to mark an "X" when he first found the boar tracks!

His breathing became louder as he ran back to the carcass, his hands on his knees when he stopped. What was he going to do now!? How would he get out of this forest!?

Just as he was about to enter a fit of anxiety, his father's words suddenly echoed in his mind, a lot clearer than when he usually recalled them:

" _A clear mind is always important for every situation. Do not let your fear weaken you; you are above it."_

He slowly took deep breaths as he closed his eyes to try and calm himself down. After a minute of doing so, he opened his eyes and tried to focus. He couldn't panic now; not when he could make his father proud. He looked up at the sky to see that the sun had already reached the horizon and was slowly setting. He kept looking at the darkening sky when he remembered something. He could always see the sun when he woke up in the cave; that meant the mountain, and therefore the edge of the forest was in the direction of the setting sun!

Seeing as he had no time to waste, Bahamut tugged on the rope and began pulling it towards the sunset, carcass in tow. Although it was a bit heavy, he pushed the feeling of the weight to the back of his mind and kept pulling, unaware that while he was correct in his assumption, he was going a little off course…

Bahamut slowly trudged through the trees with his boar in tow. The sky was growing darker by the minute, so he had to keep going. Eventually, he stopped to rest and leaned back against a tree, sweat gleaming off his arms. His legs were aching and he had eaten very little since those berries. Yet he knew he had to go on.

Suddenly, a loud growling noise came from his right. Bahamut's body froze, but his head slowly turned in the aforementioned direction. When he did, he saw something that made him break out in a cold sweat; an enormous black bear, with red eyes and vicious-looking teeth, was growling at him with a particularly hungry stare.

' _Oh no.'_

The beast then roared and dashed towards the boy, with the latter dropping the boar and running away as fast as he could, still holding the broken end of his spear. Unbeknownst to him, the smell from both the squirrel in his satchel, his sweat and the boar combined with the need for food in the winter provoked a rather tantalizing reaction from the bear, with the result obvious.

As Bahamut ran, his instincts from his old "Harry-Hunting" days kicked in and combined with his training with Acnologia, resulting in him running a little faster than the bear. The world became blurry around him and he didn't look behind, lest he be eaten by the ferocious beast. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough, and he felt the bear's warm, smelly breath drawing closer. In a near-instinctual manner, he rolled sideways and kept running. The bear did skid a little, but it managed to stop and change its direction.

Bahamut just kept running, and in the far distance, he saw the edge of the forest. He mentally sighed; he was saved! But then the roar of the bear distracted him, prompting him to look backward for a moment, only to receive a painful slam on his head as he crashed into a tree. He held his head as he tried to refocus, but the sound of growling froze him in his place once more. When his eyes regained their clarity, he saw the bear slowly approaching him, a nasty look on its face.

The young child tried to move, to run away, but his legs were frozen in place. The only thing he could do was raise his broken spear in a futile manner as the beast drew slowly closer. As it did so, the black-haired creature was replaced by another image in Bahamut's frightened mind: a tall, armored figure with a flaming ax and a banner with a wolf's head.

The bear paused for a moment and then roared as he bared his fangs. Bahamut screamed at his body to move, but his legs were seemingly stuck. He couldn't even close his eyes. The only thing he could do now, other than holding his broken spear was to accept the futility of the situation.

' _I'm…I'm going to die? I can't! I don't want to die! I don't…'_

The bear took a final leap towards the boy who silently screamed in fear, fear of his end after all he had gone through…

Only to be stopped by a black-cloaked figure, with long spiky blue hair, his muscular right hand holding the bear's nose.

"In trouble already, whelp?" asked the familiar rough voice. It was enough for Bahamut to snap back into consciousness and properly register who was in front of him.

"F-father?"

 **-OBW-**

 _Earlier…_

Acnologia was sleeping against a tree, his mind quiet for the first time in a while. He had sent his son earlier on his first hunt and was now content to wait in peace and silence for him to finish the task. A month and a half of his superior teachings should've taught him well enough.

Not that _he_ needed them anymore; the Dragon King was beyond such things. Why exercise caution when there is no need for it?

He was awoken by the very faint smell of dead boar and a familiar sweaty scent, one that he had familiarized himself with recently. His posture and closed eyes didn't so much as twitch though.

' _So, he finally finished hmm? Took him long enough. Let's see if he bothered to memorize my training.'_

It had never occurred to him that it would take longer for Bahamut to hunt smaller creatures due to the fact that he lacked many things that he had, nor the fact that the moon rose earlier in the winter, therefore shortening the time needed for the task.

He returned to his state of slumber while keeping a discreet whiff out. At some point, the whelp's approaching scent has stopped, and Acnologia opened his eyes to a new scent that made him frown.

' _A bear? What's one doing out here?'_

He got up and cricked his neck as he noticed that both the whelp and the bear were now running in the same direction, probably because of one's "hunger-induced attraction" to the other. He dashed into the woods at speeds far higher than a human's, yet he kept a fair distance to observe the events. Bahamut had learned from all those torture-um, training sessions after all. After dodging the bear a few times, the whelp was running in the direction out of the forest. He moved to dash forward and met him on the edge when the whelp suddenly crashed into a tree.

Acnologia by now was seeing the events unfolding as he had caught up to the whelp and was hiding in the shadows of the trees. He saw the bear approach the brat slowly as said brat raised a fragmented stick (presumably the remains of his spear) with a haunted look in his in a futile manner of defense.

Acnologia inwardly scoffed. It seemed that the brat had not listened to him in the end; dragons do not cower from their enemies! Maybe a sting of defeat at the hands of such a weak creature would do him good; humiliation was a great motivator after all.

Just as the bear was about to lunge, a familiar scene flashed within his mind, overlapping with the whelp and the background…

 **-OBW-**

 **(Fairy Tail Dragon Cry OST - Memory of the Beginning)**

 _He had arrived at the grove after hearing rumors of a dragon hideout nearby. He had searched the area, but those rotten lizards were clever, erasing their scent. He was about to look in another area when he heard a loud cry. He ran to it._

 _He found himself standing in front of three dragons; one was red with diamond-like horns and spikes, the other two were green and jade with large wings. Running from them was a little girl in a white dress._

" _Help me! Help me!" she cried, tears running down her tiny cheeks._

 _A tail swipes._

 _Her frail body fell on the ground._

 _His eyes widened in rage._

" _Perfect" the green one said. "This little girl will satisfy us." How dare this filth…_

 _He felt his power whirl around him, reacting to his rage. "I am the Dragon Slayer, Acnologia. I will destroy the dragons!"_

 _The jade one smirked and all three of them roared, attacking him._

 _Fools._

 _Not three seconds later, they all lay dead, a smoking heap of scaled corpses. He looked at her battered corpse, an angry feeling welling up within him._

" _I'm sorry I couldn't protect you…"_

 **-OBW-**

The image…no…the memory faded from his sight, but he found himself in front of the bear, gripping its snout. How did he get here?

He fully snapped back to reality when he heard his son's erratic breathing. Ah, that's what happened…

"In trouble already, whelp?" he asked.

After a silent second, the familiar frail voice called out "F-father?"

Father, huh?

The bear tried to move by attacking him with his paw. Insect…

If one was to observe as a bystander, one second they would see the bear trying to free itself, and in half a second, they would see the head just…vanish. Not a trace remaining but a stain of blood on the cloaked man's hand.

The bear fell down in a headless heap. Acnologia frowned as he shook the blood off his palm. ' _Good riddance'_ he thought. _'Trash that dirties my being does not deserve to exist.'_

He heard a sniffling sound and turned around to see Bahamut still holding the spear, eyes looking down with his hair bangs shadowing them. What was wrong? Was this brat ungrateful that-

Bahamut suddenly dropped his broken spear, launched himself at him and hugged him, crying into his cloak. His thin body shook with every sob and his words were warbled by his tears.

Once again, Acnologia had no idea what do to in such a situation. Hadn't he told the brat bot to hug him again? The whelp was scared true, but he should overcome that fear, not break down into tears from it!But when he looked at his trembling son's head, he felt his irritation fading away into confusion. What _should_ he do?

A flash of memories entered his mind once more. Not a scene or even an image like before, but this one was more a memory of feelings and emotions, one that had even predated his dragon-slaying days. With an indifferent face and in a moment of trance (of sorts), he slowly raised his hand and patted the boy on the head a few times, leaving it on his black mop. He looked down at the boy's satchel, which was still tied around him. The faint smell of meat came drifting from it.

' _A squirrel?'_ he turned his head to the direction of the bear and then left, using his nose and enhanced eyesight to see in the dark. _'He got the boar too. Well, he did complete the task…and we have extras now.'_ he thought as he looked at the headless bear corpse.

Having made up his mind, he looked back down at Bahamut to tell him that they were heading back, only to see that the child had fallen asleep while hugging him. He sighed in resignation; this whole mess really wasn't going to be easy…

 **-OBW-**

Bahamut slowly woke up to the soft feeling of fur, the sound of crackling fire and the succulent smell of meat. He groaned as he tried to lift himself up and rubbed his eyes. He felt the ground around him for a moment before touching his glasses and then putting them on. Once his sight focused, he saw that he was back in the cave and sitting on his rug, in front of him a blazing fire roasting a large piece of suspended meat.

"You are awake." A familiar voice said.

His black-haired head immediately turned sideways to see Acnologia sitting beside him with one leg upright and the other on the ground, looking into the fire with an emotionless expression.

The Dragon King met his gaze with one eye before looking back at the flames. A moment of silence passed between them, during which Bahamut looked back and forth between the meat and his father, slowly registering the day's events. The hunt, the boar, the bear attacking him – his father saving him.

He quickly looked at the muscular, tanned man who sat near him as it finally clicked in his mind.

 _His father had saved him._

He was about to hug him again, out of sheer instinct, when Acnologia's blueish-gray eyes met his own. That was enough to make him stay in his spot and keep silent; his father didn't like hugs.

The two kept looking at each other for a few seconds before Bahamut asked in a timid voice "Why?"

Acnologia's facial features didn't so much as twitch, but he understood the unspoken question. "You completed the task I gave you; had that bear not interfered you would have succeeded."

Bahamut's head perked up at that. It was as close as something could get as a compliment from Acnologia. But then he noticed something. "How did you know about the bear?"

Acnologia scoffed. "You are forgetting that my senses are far superior to those of any man or beast. Its natural scent, combined with its hunger was a dead giveaway. Although there shouldn't be any bears in that area."

"Why?" Bahamut asked.

"The terrain is too sparse and lacks food to sustain a beast of that size. My guess is that one must have wandered off too far from its cave."

Bahamut just nodded in acceptance. The dragon-man then turned his head to meet his son's gaze. "Let this be a lesson to you: you must always prepare for the unexpected. You can allow nothing to catch you off guard. Do so, and no foe shall be able to ambush you."

Acnologia then gestured to the meat. Bahamut looked at the roast before looking back at his father and pointed an unsure finger at himself.

"It's your kill. You earned it."

The child's eyes brightened and he got up to slowly remove the meat from the spit. Once he did so and carefully set it on the ground, he suddenly started tearing off pieces of it and devouring them ravenously.

A normal human would've been a tad repulsed at the abysmal eating manners of the child, but Bahamut had to eat whatever he could get his hands on as quickly as possible during his time with the Dursleys. That and Acnologia couldn't care less.

"I've placed the bear meat in a little storage hole that I made," Acnologia said after a few minutes, pointing to a culvert filled with snow and ice on the far side of the cave. "Now you can store any meat that is left over from your hunts."

At the mention of the bear, Bahamut's mind flashed back to when the beast had cornered him, teeth bared with an angry growl and how he had been so helpless to stop it. He stopped in mid-chew, swallowed and looked down at the floor with a disturbed look.

Acnologia noticed this and asked in a slightly irritated tone "What's wrong, whelp?"

If Bahamut was startled by the irritation in his father's tone, he didn't show. He just remained silent before replying in a nervous tone "W-when that bear attacked I felt…weak. Helpless. Just like when my uncle was abusing me."

He looked to Acnologia with a hint of desperation in his voice "Why aren't I getting stronger?"

The Dragon King tilted his head and said "Your body is still recovering from your stunted growth. It will take time for you re-develop your muscles." Bahamut shook his head in response.

"What I meant is, you know magic, right? Why haven't you started teaching me yet?"

"Your body is unable to handle magic yet. You will learn in due time." Acnologia replied, ending with a tone that firmly closed the conversation. Bahamut heard the underlying statement because he sat down with an angry pout.

Acnologia however, wasn't done talking. "There is something else to what you said. What is it?" Uncaring he may be, he hated it when secrets were kept from him.

Bahamut opened his mouth to reply, only to close it and look back down at the cave floor with a troubled look. Eventually, he answered.

"W-when my village was attacked...my friend was killed by an armored man with a huge ax. He kicked me to the ground and I saw that he was going to kill me. When the bear attacked me…" a shiver went through his spine. "I felt like I was back at the village, fire all around me, and the man was about to kill me like he did with Kazuto."

"What did this man look like?" Acnologia asked in a bored tone.

"He wore huge black armor that looked really scary. He had a huge ax that glowed like fire and a dark helmet." Bahamut's eyes gained a haunted look to them as he spoke. "He also carried a flag; it had the head of a wolf with a moon behind it. The words "Midnight Wolf" were written there as well."

Bahamut shot his head up to meet Acnologia's gaze, eyes burning with emotion. With each word he spoke, his voice rose to a crescendo. "I don't want to be weak again. I want to be strong so that no one will hurt me again. I want to be so strong that I can hurt that man for killing my friend!"

A silence stretched out between them, Bahamut's eyes locked with that of his father, who didn't even twitch at the desire his son mentioned. After what seemed like a minute though he threw his head back and burst into a cackling laughter that echoed throughout the cave. The laugh sounded strange to Bahamut's ears, who had never heard his father laugh like that.

"You, you desire revenge, whelp! As amusing as that notion is, it is irrelevant to you."

Bahamut tilted his head in confusion "R-revenge? What does that mean?" The word sounded familiar, but he had either heard or saw it in passing or forgot its meaning.

His father chuckled in that same odd tone. "Revenge is a petty human thought. It is a desire to harm those who have harmed you." Acnologia then raised his arm and pointed down at the green-eyed child, his eyes possessing an unnerving glint to them. "But you are **Bahamut** , son of the Dragon King! When you will complete your training, when you will become a dragon just as I have, such petty notions like revenge will be meaningless to you; as a dragon, you will become so powerful that no living being could ever harm you."

"Like you?"

Acnologia just chuckled. "Yes, like me."

Bahamut was mystified at his father's words. He will become so strong that he won't have to "take revenge"? As enticing as that thought was, a fear still lingered in his mind. "But what if I meet that man again? What if someone insults me or tries to hurt me?"

Acnologia understood what his son was thinking right now. "Should you do so in the future, then you will kill him because he is an obstacle in your path; not out of a desire for revenge. Do not let anyone walk over you."

Bahamut nodded, entranced by his father's words. The Dragon King just smirked at him and got up from the ground. He headed towards the mouth of the cave, but then he paused and said "Although…you do feel naturally more inclined than most. I suppose learning the basics behind it couldn't hurt…"

He turned to Bahamut with an amused look on his face. "Looks like you get your wish, whelp. This week, I will start teaching you the basics of magic; prepare yourself, because the moment you will do something wrong…" his smirk widened into a fanged grin and his eyes gained a dangerous look to them.

"…you might have to pay with more than your life." With those words, he jumped out of the cave and up the mountain.

Bahamut was left with a look of awe on his face. He shook his head and prepared to go to sleep, all the while mulling over his father's words. He soon fell asleep on his rug, the warm fire glowing at his side, soon entering the arms of Morpheus with one last thought:

Despite all of his faults, he couldn't ask for a better father than Acnologia.

* * *

 **It looks a little strange for Bahamut to get into trouble on his first hunt, but remember that he has only been training with Acnologia for a month and a half, which doesn't fill up a malnourished child even with proper food. Same goes for his lack of strength.**

 **It may seem out-of-character for Acnologia to just save Bahamut like that, but to those of you who have read the manga the tragedy with the little girl AKA Sonya was a crucial turning point in Acnologia's mindset, and he was sorry that he couldn't save her. This is more of an unconscious reaction on his part though since that memory was buried under 400 years of "dragon". As such, this isn't too out-of-character.**

 **Check out my other stories and challenges and I hope you give them the same love this story has!**

 **Read and Review!**


	4. Chapter 3 - Whats and Hows

**Ta-da! New chapter! This one is basically compulsory to any HP Fanfic with this kind of scenario. I have taken some excerpts from The Bloody Ashikabi (with permission from its author, the great Arawn D. Draven) and modified them, so if anything looks familiar...now you know why. A little short, but it has its reasons for being so.**

 **Hope you enjoy and constructive criticism is welcome! BETA NEEDED!**

* * *

 **Chapter 3 - Whats and Hows**

 _December 24th 1988, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Headmaster's Office_

In another world, away from the cold peak of Mt. Zonia and across a lush field of grass, stood a tall, fearsome and magnificent castle besides a large lake. This was the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, one of the oldest structures in Magical Britain. Located in the Scottish Highlands, it was hidden from muggle (non-magical) eyes by a series of powerful wards and enchantments. It was one of the most renowned magical schools in Europe, having taught generations of wizards within its ancient halls. To the British wizards, it was THE best magical school in Europe – no, the world! –, be it because of ancestral lineage, nationalistic pride or – primarily in the last 50 years – reverence for its famed Headmaster.

Said Headmaster, who went by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, was sitting in his lavish office, battling the most feared enemy of any schoolmaster: paperwork. With his long white beard, half-moon spectacles and colorful robes, he could be regarded as an eccentric old man, a notion further strengthened by the oddity that was his office, which was filled with strange-looking knick-knacks, books, trinkets and other odd paraphernalia. Yet to those who knew him, he was a prominent figure in the international wizarding world, possessing not only the title of Headmaster of Hogwarts but also Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, as well as the more local yet just as prominent Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.

The bearded old man had just put aside his quill and sighed as he looked out the window at the evening sun with his blue eyes. The paperwork wasn't anything special; just standard forms that were filed during the holidays. The real reason for his little show of reflection was the thought of one factor which would shape the Wizarding World in the future; Harry James Potter.

When he had defeated his old friend, the Dark Lord Gellert Grindelwald in an epic duel 50 years prior, he was showered with heaps of praise, awards, and titles. He was instantly raised to the highest social and political pedestals the British Wizarding World had, cementing his position in society. He was awarded the Order of Merlin (First Class), and then became the Headmaster of Hogwarts, further strengthening his already high reputation.

Then, on one night in 1966, an old student of his had come back from parts unknown with a request to teach at the prestigious school: Tom Marvolo Riddle, later known as Lord Voldemort.

He sometimes still shivered when he remembered when he had met the boy many, many years prior; he had already begun his descent into the Dark, a lust for power was hidden in his eyes. His time at the school had made him respected amongst his peers for his looks, intelligence, and cunning that all Slytherin students desired to achieve. However, thanks to his troubled past at the Muggle orphanage, he began to listen to the teachings of Pureblood supremacy, which was practiced by some of his housemates. After his graduation, he disappeared without a trace; until that night.

He had refused his old student's request, not wanting to let him influence the students with his ideologies. That had been a smart move, no doubt about it, but 4 years later war broke out; a horrible war that would be ingrained in the minds of witches and wizards for the rest of their lives. Tom, having renamed himself as Voldemort, had gathered followers that supported Pureblood supremacy – Death Eaters – was trying to take over the wizarding world and wipe out the muggles, saying that they were unsightly filth and undeserving of life. They had spread fear and terror across Wizarding Britain and some of Europe, taking countless lives with them.

Dumbledore was distraught at the death and carnage that his old student wrought. Resolving to put a stop to this sorrow, he formed a vigilante group called The Order of the Phoenix. They had combatted the dark forces of Voldemort for 10 long years. During that time, Dumbledore had learned a couple of secrets regarding his old student as the war raged on. One night however as he was interviewing a potential Divination teacher called Sybil Trelawney, she had slipped into a trance and spoke a prophecy; a prophecy that foretold of the one would kill the Dark Lord.

According to the prophecy, one of two children was destined to defeat him. The only children who fit the criteria were the son of James and Lily Potter and the son of Frank and Alice Longbottom, all of whom were members of the Order.

Then, on October 31st, 1981, Voldemort had found and attacked the Potter House at the village of Godric's Hollow. He had stunned Lily and James and proceeded to try and kill the infant Harry, but for an unknown reason the curse he used backfired on him and caused him to vanish, leaving only an empty robe and his wand. Upon young Harry's brow, a lightning-brow scar was found as well.

When Dumbledore arrived at the house, he saw the aftermath of the attack and was astounded by his findings; Voldemort had cast the unblockable Killing Curse, yet Harry was alive! The news quickly spread across the nation; a mere infant had defeated the foulest Dark Lord in the history of Britain! They even called him the "Boy-Who-Lived"!

Yet, despite all the cheer, a fear grew in the old wizard's head. He had suspicions that Voldemort wasn't dead, thanks to some research and the memories of the man. When he had found Harry, he also found Voldemort's cloak and wand – but no body or corpse. He had kept searching for clues, but he had not been able to find out how the man had cheated death.

The Wizarding World could not face Voldemort a second time. According to the prophecy and the attack, Harry would be destined to defeat him once more, for good this time. He had to be prepared. To do so he had to be kept safe from Voldemort's followers until he started Hogwarts, so after much persuasion, he had managed to convince the Potters to give up Harry for his protection. The Dursleys with their dislike of magic would ensure the boy grew up humble. The Blood Wards fuelled by Petunia's blood would protect him and hide him. While it pained him to send a child to people he knew that would hate him, it was a better option than to see him become too arrogant or prejudiced. That's why he sent Harry to live with Petunia; he would grow up humble and see the Wizarding World with fresh eyes, something that was needed of "The Chosen One".

The Potters would be unhappy about his choice of a guardian but they needed to see that it was for the Greater Good. Harry would grow up unhappy yes, but sometimes the needs of the many eclipses the needs of the few. Besides, he had placed a loyal squib, one Arabella Figg in the same neighborhood to keep an eye out for him. The reports he had been getting from her were satisfactory and nothing unusual had been reported. He was seen outside doing chores but all children did chores at that age; at least he had a work ethic, that was good as well. He was sure that both Harry and the Potters would understand his decision; the Hero of the Light needed to learn to forgive after all.

He smiled in contentment and reached for one of his delicious lemon drops when several loud noises blared from behind him. He swiftly turned around to see various instruments and knick-knacks sputtering smoke, exploding or going haywire.

'The Blood Wards!' he thought as he paled. 'They're gone? What happened!?'

He was about to try and quiet the noise when his office Floo flashed green flames. He turned around to see the spectral head of Arabella Figg with a distraught look in her eyes. That was not good, not good at all.

"Mrs. Figg, what's wrong? Has something happened to Harry?" he asked in a calm tone.

"P-Professor Dumbledore!" she cried. "You have to come here quickly! There's fire at the Dursleys home and Harry is still inside!"

A hollow feeling grew in the old Headmaster's stomach. A fire? He had to hurry, but he also needed to inform the Potters. He couldn't have everything crumbling around him now! He quickly drew his wand and sent a Patronus message to James and his deputy headmistress, Professor Minerva McGonagall. He then apparated to Privet Drive.

'I hope that nothing too bad happened. Still, I cannot have everything falling apart now…'

 **-OBW-**

 _Earlier, at Potter Manor…_

Back in England, a family of four was eating their dinner. They had just set up holiday decorations and had laid on the large, sparkling tree near the fireplace. These were the Potters, a family that had become famous in wizarding society, even if that fame was directly tied to their firstborn, Harry Potter.

James Potter was a man in his thirties with messy black hair and glasses. He was a member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (DMLE) as well as the Head of the Noble House of Potter, a prominent and influential house in the Wizengamot, along with his long-time friend, Sirius Black. His skill as an Auror was also renowned, having served in the war and arresting many Death Eaters. He was right now munching on his sinfully delicious English breakfast.

Sitting beside him was his wife Lily Potter (nee Evans), a beautiful red-haired woman with deep green eyes, with a glimmer of intelligence in them. She was one of the most well-known witches of Britain, having not only contributed to various fields of magic and nearly mastering them at a young age but also having married the (in)famous James Potter. The fact that she was a muggleborn was simply a slap in the face to all of the pure-blooded bigots and fools in the Ministry of Magic. The fact that she had "put a leash" on her husband so to speak added further to her fame, and was now recognized as the woman that all young witches and muggleborn magicals should grow up to be.

Finally, the last two were being fed by their mother while playing with some of their toys. Born two years after the war (they were now around 5), Ivy Iris Potter and William Charlus Potter were twin siblings and youngest of the Potter House. Ivy had her mother's red hair that went down past her shoulders and her father's eyes, while William looked just like his father with green eyes, but his hair was slick and combed down. Some of Lily's facial features could be seen on him as well. These two bickered over everything like twins do, and inherited their father's love of pranks. Unlike James though, their enthusiasm was quickly tampered down by Lily before it got too out of hand. As such, William was more subdued when it came to pranks and preferred Quidditch, although he did enjoy pulling one with his sister.

Despite the cheery atmosphere though, they all knew something was missing. Ever since they gave away Harry to Dumbledore for safekeeping, it was as though a part of the family was cut out. They still didn't regret their decision though; in the first couple of years after the war, they were subtly targeted by former (and non-former) Death Eaters wishing to exact vengeance for their master. It got so out of hand that one time while they were shopping in Diagon Alley when Lily was pregnant with the twins, they were attacked in broad daylight by a follower of the Dark Lord. It was only thanks to James's quick thinking and skill that the would-be assassin was subdued before thrown in Azkaban. It pained their heart to not contact him at all for 10 years, but Dumbledore was adamant that his location is kept secret. One misplaced word and Harry could be in danger.

They still told the twins about their older brother; their real one and not the one portrayed in those outlandish books.

"Mom?" Ivy asked after finishing her breakfast.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Why can't Harry be with us? It's Christmas! You say that family should always be together for Christmas!" she asked with a pout.

Lily sighed as she felt a twinge of pain in her heart. It was times like this that caused her the most grief. "I told you before honey, it isn't safe for him to come home yet. I promise you though" she said, a smile growing on her face "when he does come home, you can spend every Christmas with him to make up for that."

The little girl kept pouting, though she did brighten up at that last comment. Lily and James just chuckled. The twins both idolized Harry and couldn't wait to meet him.

"Don't you worry!" James exclaimed, a grin adorning his face. "When he comes home, you can teach him all about pranking and we can finally complete the new generation of Marauders!"

"James Potter! You will not be corrupting Harry with your silly ideas unless you want to sleep on the couch!" Lily countered, pointing a fork at him. That got him to shut up; if there was anyone who could force him to do anything he didn't like, it was his wife.

The twins giggled at their parents' antics. They all got up and were about to play with their new toys when a spectral phoenix flew in through the window and hovered in mid-air in front of them. James and Lily widened their eyes. That was Dumbledore's Patronus! Was something wrong?

"Lily, James, something terrible has happened to Harry! Apparate to Petunia Dursley's house in Privet Drive, Surrey at once!" Dumbledore's voice rang out, his tone calm with a layer of urgency.

The two older wizards blanched, with Lily's face paler than James as the message registered in their minds. 'Harry is at Petunia's house? What was Dumbledore thinking!? He knew that Petunia hated magic, why would he put Harry there!?' Lily thought frantically, filing a mental note to chew out the old Headmaster. Instantly she pushed those thoughts to the side though; her son was in danger, and this time she would not abandon him!

She turned to the twins, who sat there with confused expressions on their little faces. "Ivy, William, stay here. We need to go somewhere for a moment, so be calm, alright?"

"What's wrong mum?" William asked, his head tilting to the side. "What happened to Harry? Where is he?"

"Everything is going to be fine honey, just stay put. We'll come back in a few minutes" she said. The red-haired witch snatched up her wand and held out a hand to James. He took it and with a crack, they disappeared.

A second of being squeezed through a tube later, Lily found herself staring with horror at a scene that she would never forget; her sister's house up in a blaze of raging fire, surrounded by frantic-looking neighbors, policemen, and firemen who were spraying jets of water at the burning house.

She kept staring at the house as dread filled her. What was going on? WHERE WAS HARRY!?

"Lily, James! Over here!" the familiar voice of Dumbledore called out. Lily shook her head and looked to see both Dumbledore and…Professor McGonagall brushing past the crowd and hurrying towards them.

"Professors, what's going on? Why is Petunia's house on fire!?" Lily asked frantically.

"I do not know for sure yet, my dear. For now, we must help these muggle firemen extinguish the flames; they are too intense for them to put out." He quickly turned around and rushed to the house with Lily, James and his deputy following him. They reached the burning house and cast powerful _aguamenti_ charms at the flames. Within a matter of minutes, the flames and smoke died down to reveal the ashen remains of the house. Only its supporting walls remained, as everything inside had become ash, splinter, and dust. Lily's hand flew up to cover her mouth and tears started to leak as she saw the charred remains of the Dursleys. She frantically looked around, but she saw no signs of a fourth corpse. What happened to Harry!?

Dumbledore waved his wand around, a frown hidden under his beard as he tried searching for Harry. A wizard's magical signature could be found even after said wizard's death; where was Harry's?

He stopped waving his wand for a moment and took out a small sock. He touched it with the wand and muttered "Portus". The sock flashed for a second before reverting to normal, indicating a portkey was created. He called out to Lily and James and motioned them to grab hold of the sock. They understood, touched it along with Professor McGonagall and vanished in a swirl.

Seconds later, they appeared in the Headmaster's office in Hogwarts. They all took a moment to breathe freely and clear their heads before looking at the old Headmaster. He was looking at his ruined instruments and examining them for any signs that could reveal what happened. He was broken out of his examination though when Lily screamed:

"ALBUS DUMBLEDORE! What is going on and WHERE? IS? HARRY!?" she screamed, her magic starting to whirl around her in fury.

The Headmaster of Hogwarts raised his hands placatingly before speaking once more. "The wards I have placed around Petunia's home have collapsed and – "

"Why did you even place him with Petunia in the first place!? You know that she hates magic so why!?" Her eyes were now puffy and red as tears escaped from them and her body shook with fear and fury.

The old wizard appeared to age by several decades as he took a deep breath and sighed. "I put Harry at the Dursleys because it was the best option at the time."

At this point, the old headmistress had decided to join in. "THE BEST OPTION!? I TOLD YOU THAT THEY WERE THE WORST MUGGLES IMAGINABLE! ANYONE COULD HAVE RAISED HARRY BETTER THAN THEM!" she screeched.

The Potters sent Minerva outraged looks but quickly looked back at Dumbledore as he flared his magic to quiet them down. The look on his face said not to blame his old friend. He sighed once more and spoke: "I had reasons for putting Harry there. The first one was that since Petunia was your blood relative, I was able to put ancient protections around the house that I wouldn't have been able to put anywhere else."

That part was true, but it was also illegal. He had enough political power to prevent anything serious from happening to himself, but he would most likely lose his positions in the Wizengamot and the ICW.

"The second reason was that your sister knew of our world, yet was not part of it. She would've been able to explain to Harry about his outbursts of accidental magic and the basics of our society, ensuring that he would be able to integrate into our society without issue. I even wrote this to her in a letter I placed with Harry."

"A letter!? A simple letter can't explain the complexity of this whole situation, Dumbledore!" James yelled. "Why did you lie to us!? You said that Harry was safe!"

"I did not lie to you James!" growled Dumbledore. "I was not callous when I dropped Harry off there! Did you think I would leave him unmonitored? Of course not! I have not only placed wards and enchantments over your son, but I placed Arabella Figg there to keep an eye out for him! In fact, it was because of her that I found out about this whole mess!"

"Arabella Figg? The squib?" James asked.

"Yes, her. I moved her next door to Harry so she could report to me with ease. In fact…" Dumbledore went over to the fireplace and threw in some Floo powder before calling out "Arabella Figg!"

Green fire flashed for a few seconds before the old woman's head poked out of the fireplace. "Mrs. Figg my dear, could you kindly describe to us what happened before the house burned down?" asked Dumbledore.

"Well, that's the rub; I saw nothing or no-one out of the ordinary before that. It was just like the house exploded on its own" replied the old woman in a worried tone.

Dumbledore stroked his beard in thought. On its own? That could mean a lot of things but if he was considering the circumstances…accidental magic perhaps? This was a thought that Dumbledore dreaded: such a large outburst of accidental magic could only be released if the wizard in question was under incredible stress and if he possessed great latent power. Both of those observations could be potentially troublesome; that meant Harry possessed incredible power and that something had gone wrong in the house. Best to keep those thoughts to himself though.

He thanked Mrs. Figg and sent her off before turning to the distraught parents. "As you can see, I am just in the dark about this as the rest of you."

That did little to calm the Potters though. Lily was shaking with rage and James was glaring harshly at him. He didn't answer the main question at all: Where was their son?

He racked his mind for an explanation to placate them when a beeping sound was heard. He turned around to see that one of his instruments, a medallion with a glowing red gem in the center was blinking steadily. A surge of relief filled his old heart; there was a chance that his plan could be salvaged!

He turned around to face the Potters with a grandfatherly smile on his face. "It seems as though we have some good news: Harry is alive."

James widened his eyes and asked in a desperate tone "Alive? How? We didn't see him or…his remains" he choked back a sob "back at the Dursley's."

Dumbledore palmed the medallion and showed it to them as both the Potters and Prof. McGonagall leaned closer to see. "This is one of the instruments that I used to monitor young Harry; specifically, this one monitors his life-force. The light is blinking steadily and the beeping is even, which means that Harry is very much alive and well. It does not monitor his location, however, that one was destroyed." He said as he gestured to the shelf.

Lily looked up and glared in anger, her red hair now wild and pointed her wand at Dumbledore. "You said that you would keep him safe. You lied to us. I now have no idea where my little boy is and for all we know he could be wandering the streets alone and scared. I have half a mind to break contact with you.

But I can't because I know that you are the only one capable of finding my son and getting him back in one piece. So, I am warning you Dumbledore" she said, her tone becoming artic as her magic flashed around her once more. "If my son is not found by the time he is supposed to get his Hogwarts letter, then there will be hell to pay. Not only that, but I might consider applying here for a teaching position to keep my other children safe."

"I firmly support her decision along with the backing of the DMLE" said James, standing beside his wife and placing a hand on her outstretched arm. Dumbledore swallowed before nodding. He would have to recall the Order of the Phoenix to help him in this endeavor. He could surely find the Boy-Who-Lived in four years, no?

The couple then turned to leave his office, Lily crying on her husband's shoulder as he whispered to her to calm her down. The magical stairs popped up and they descended, but not before James shot Dumbledore a scathing look.

McGonagall then turned to leave and shot a similar look at him as well. A few seconds later, he was all alone.

Dumbledore sighed as he sat down and tried to reorganize his thoughts. So much of the plan was thrown off and he needed to get it back on track. He would not allow the Wizarding World to suffer through those dark times again. But even as his loyal phoenix, Fawkes, appeared in a flash of flames and sang its mystical song, the troubled thoughts never left his head.

It was looking to be such a merry Christmas too…

* * *

 **What do you think?**

 **I was writing when a scenario popped into my head: What would happen if Harry/Bahamut asked his father about "The Facts of Life"? If anyone can write an omake/side-story like that and send it to me via PM, then I will choose the best one and post it with my next chapter!**

 **Go check out my other stories and challenges!**

 **Read and review! REEEEEVVVIIIIEEEWWW!**


	5. Chapter 4 - Magic

**Hi guys! Here with a new chapter! This will answer some questions about Bahamut and his Magic.**

 **Hope you all enjoy and constructive criticism is welcome! BETA NEEDED!**

* * *

 **Chapter 4 - Magic**

Bahamut shifted in his spot on the cave restlessly. He was looking at the cave entrance every few seconds in excitement before ducking his head back again. He couldn't help it though; his father was finally going to teach him about magic!

A few days ago, Acnologia had finally agreed to start teaching him magic after his first successful hunt. Since that day, the green-eyed child had made sure to perform all the exercises he was given with no complaints. He pushed his body to its (admittedly small) limits, only stopping when the Dragon King made him stop or when his body was on the verge of total exhaustion. He didn't want his father to go back on his promise because he was weak, after all.

So there he sat, tension building up in his little gut, wondering what would his father teach him.

"I see you are excited, whelp."

Bahamut's head snapped up and turned to see his father standing there with a small smirk on his face. How did he get here so fast!? He didn't even hear him come in!

The older man just snorted in amusement at his son's startled face. He walked up and sat down crossed-legged in front of him, hands on his knees and staring at him with a serious expression.

Bahamut didn't even so much as flinch at his father's gaze, having grown used to it over the past two months. What did bother him though was the fact that ever since that incident with the bear happened, Acnologia seemed to be watching him more closely than before. Usually, when he performed the body exercises (except sparring), Acnologia would just lie down on the ground, either in human or dragon form, and nap while telling him what to do. Even when the Dragon King _did_ look like he was sleeping, Bahamut didn't take the chance and still did the exercises.

Now however, Acnologia kept a constant eye open and watched Bahamut's every single move outside the cave. While neither of them said anything, the constant staring (in contrast to the brief peeks) made Bahamut slightly uneasy and confused. His father had barely bothered to actually watch him during training, so what had happened? Was it because of the hunt?

Every time that thought came up though, the child immediately dismissed it from his mind. He may not have known Acnologia for long, but even he could tell that it was too out of character for him to jump from slight interest to full hidden concern. He would have dwelt on the matter more if not for his constant training.

Bahamut shook his head from those thoughts and focused completely on the man who sat before him. None of them so much as twitched for what seemed like a good while. As the minutes passed by, Bahamut started to grow restless. Did he do something wrong? Why was Father staring at him like that?

After what felt like an hour, finally Acnologia spoke again. "It would seem that you still know of patience. That is good."

Bahamut blinked in befuddlement. That was a test? Wait, why was he even surprised, given who was talking?

"Now then, what exactly do you want to learn?"

Bahamut gave the Dragon King an odd stare. "I want to learn magic. What else?"

Acnologia hmphed. "Very well, can you tell me what is magic?"

Bahamut opened his mouth to reply, but found out that he had no coherent answer for that question. "Uh…it's the thing that lets people do awesome stuff?"

Acnologia raised an eyebrow. "A rather childish and immature way to put it, but yes…and no.

Magic is, simply put, the primordial force that flows through the universe. It is the physical manifestation of the spirit. When the physical spirit of an organism connects with the primordial flow of universe, the spirit forms Magic as a product of the connection. Understand?"

Bahamut nodded.

"Good. Ever since the dawn of time, magic has manifested itself in various forms – either found in nature or through sentient beings. Because of the raw, untamed form that magic possessed back then, it was oppressed and feared by humans. However, the more that magic appeared – gradually becoming an everyday phenomenon – the less humans feared it and the more they accepted it. One of the extremely few things your species have ever done right, I say.

Back on topic – as a way of keeping balance in the universe, only a small portion of humans can fully wield magic, such as yourself. While magic CAN be learnt by anyone, it is mostly limited to a few triggers and hiccups – magic requires great mental ability and concentration."

Upon seeing Bahamut's confused expression, he elaborated. "Imagine that normal humans can ignite a twig at most, while magic users can ignite a branch with ease." His son 'ohh'ed in response.

Acnologia raised his hand opened his palm face-up. A sphere of blue light swirled into existence, hovering above the palm while emitting a faint whooshing sound. "There are two components required to be able to use magic: Magic Power and Ethernano.

What I have here in my hand is a sphere of magic, generated by my magic power. It is the source of power for every magic user, commonly known as Mages. A mage has a container inside his or her body that determines the limit of their magic power."

"Container? You mean an…organ?" Bahamut asked, recalling a similar item from a book he had read.

Acnologia shook his head. "Not quite, but we'll get to that later. Now, the magic container and Magic Power itself is composed of Ethernano, (Acnologia paused for a moment to try and define this term in a way Bahamut's mind could understand) invisible specks of magic that exist in nature. When needed, these specks enter the body from the air and fill up the container. A mage draws magic power from the container and manifests it in physical form, like this sphere."

Bahamut just looked on with interest. Although he didn't understand every word his father had just said (intelligent or not, he was still a child), he understood the general gist of the matter. "So…how do I use magic?"

Acnologia dispelled the sphere and made a cupping motion with his hands. "I have seen you use magic subconsciously when you first came here, so it's safe to assume that you have already 'unlocked' your magic, so to speak. I want you to cup your hands like this and make a sphere of magic – it doesn't have to be as big as mine."

Bahamut nodded and did as his father said. He cupped his hands in front of him and stared, only to realize one crucial detail: How was he supposed to even summon the sphere?

Acnologia however saw the confusion on his son's face and elaborated. "Focus. Try and draw the power from within you and bring it forth. You have already used magic; remember how you arrived here? It's just there waiting for you to use it again."

Bahamut took a deep breath and closed his eyes while maintaining the hand-gesture. He tried to focus on the sensation he had felt that day, but it was proving rather difficult due to the panic that had triggered his magic before. Nevertheless, he kept focusing, trying to draw the magic out.

Several minutes passed, and Bahamut still maintained that meditative position and Acnologia was staring at him intently. All the while, the space between the child's hands remained empty.

Bahamut scrunched his face in effort as he tried to sort out the sensation he felt whenever he had formerly used magic. Unfortunately, because all of his past uses of magic were involuntary, he had little to no memory of what said sensation was. As he focused though, his mind flashed back to said moments: Dudley chasing him around with his friends, Vernon beating him and ripping his precious book apart, the armored man with…the…axe…

He still remembered it so vividly: the hulking figure marching towards him amidst the hellish flames that consumed Greegham Town, the body of his first friend lying face-down on the ground behind it, the burning axe poised high ready to-

In that panic-induced moment, Bahamut suddenly felt _something_ rush through his body and up his arms. His palms felt tingly and warm and he felt like he was holding something even though he couldn't feel anything solid. He opened his eyes and to his amazement, a small spark of blue light, roughly the size of his eye, hovered between his palms.

The green-eyed child let out a small smile as he stared at the small light. He had done it! He was using magic!

He was about to yell in excitement when the light suddenly fizzled out, leaving him empty-handed and dumbfounded. He looked up to ask his father what had happened, but he flinched at the sheer intensity of the stare he was given.

Bahamut was worried and confused. Did he do something wrong?

 **-OBW-**

Acnologia felt like slamming his head against the wall and cursing the whole situation, which he might have done if it wasn't for the whelp's presence. To do that in front of him would be to show weakness. Instead he simply intensified his stare, although he was still frustrated.

The exercise had started out as predicted, with Bahamut struggling to get a hold on the feeling of using magic. Judging by the frown on his little face, he was having hard time even figuring out what it was, but that was to be expected for a beginner. Intelligent as he was, the Dragon King wouldn't call him a prodigy; not yet at least.

The minutes passed by in total silence, with nothing appearing between Bahamut's palms. It was only when the child started to sweat a little that things got…strange.

As a Chaos Dragon Slayer, Acnologia possessed the ability to detect magic within a very large radius. The closer he was to his target, the better he could analyze its magic. Normally he had little use for such a feature, since it was a defensive and supporting ability – he did not need to study his prey's magic for no magic could ever harm him, so he used it only when he wanted to track down his prey, with his enhanced smell covering what he couldn't sense. These past couple of months though he had been using that ability to keep track of Bahamut's magic and to monitor him, like the first time they went down to Kilika Town.

Right now, Acnologia was watching Bahamut's Ethernano container to see any signs of his magic activating. But what he was seeing would've made him scratch his head in confusion had he been a lesser human.

As the spark of light formed between Bahamut's hand, his magic power was pulled from the container, which drained it by a large amount – roughly a fifth. But as the child held the spark, the container started slowly filling up **on its own.** No ethernano absorbed into the body, no other spell cast – the container just… _generated_ magic power all by itself.

That should not be possible; it was a container, a metaphysical jar meant to hold magic. It absorbed ethernano from the air and from other sources. It was _not_ supposed to generate magic power!

"D-did I do something wrong?" Bahamut asked, snapping him out of his confusion. He refocused on his son to see the worried expression on his face.

"Keep holding it. Don't lose your focus" he commanded. As the child nodded and kept holding the spark, Acnologia observed his son's container and confirmed what he had seen: it was generating its own magic, while simultaneously absorbing some ethernano from the air.

His ancient mind reeled at the implications of this: With an additional source of magic, Bahamut could easily cast strong spells with greater ease and speed than most mages. In addition, his "recharge" time would be significantly shorter than others, thus enabling him to recover quickly and gain an extra edge in battle. He inwardly grinned with satisfaction; this whelp could truly challenge him when the time came!

But as he kept looking though, he noticed something about the container. Ignoring the fact that it did what it did, the magic teeming off it and its "shape" (to his eye at least) seemed different from his own container. Contrary to popular belief, he had a container like any other mage; because of his Dragon Slayer powers though, it was incredibly vast and he absorbed ethernano at an exponential rate, thus giving off the impression of near-limitless magic power.

Still, he had never seen a container act like this. _'Perhaps its time for a little experiment…'_

"Brat, stop for a moment." Bahamut looked at him with an exasperated look, like he was saying 'I just learned how to do this thing!'

"Now." He had no time for petulant children. The child wordlessly nodded and dropped his hands, the spark fizzling out of existence. He motioned for him to come closer, which he did.

Acnologia then raised his arm and pointed his finger at his son. He reached out with the outstretched finger and touched the child's forehead, sending a small flicker of his magic into the boy's body. _'That should refill his container. If so then –'_

Bahamut jumped back and yelled in pain as he held his forehead. All the while, Acnologia was staring at the container in growing confusion. Instead of refilling it, his magic seemed to be…clashing with the boy's magic, moving back and forth before finally filling it up.

The Dragon King let out a small grimace. It seemed that the boy's container...or rather, core…was struggling with adapting to his own magic. This presented a problem; it meant that it would be a while before the whelp could learn Chaos Dragon Slayer Magic. If a small flicker burnt him, a full-on bestowment could rip the boy from the inside out, at least at this stage where his body was still re-developing.

Acnologia put his hand to his chin and began thinking. _'This could put a dent in my plans. If just a flicker caused this much of a reaction, then maybe he isn't compatible with my magic at all.'_ However, he mentally shook his head.

' _No, from what I've seen, his 'core'_ _ **did**_ _accept my magic with a little bit of struggle. That means I will have to make him get used to the magic here. Feeding him my magic on occasion could work, but I want him to actually fight during this period beyond physical combat. Then that means...(sigh) he will have to learn another branch of magic. Which in of itself isn't a problem; many mages during my time knew how to use multiple magic types. However, it might make learning Dragon Slayer Magic a bit more difficult down the road.'_

He tilted his head upwards to see that Bahamut had recovered, although he still rubbed his forehead. _'Oh well, baby steps then. I will start by making him practice drawing out his magic. I will have to get some tools to do it though, and I know just where to get them. Besides…'_ He saw his son giving him an angry pout. He just gave back a sadistic grin that said 'time for a spar' which made him freeze.

' _I have been waiting 400 years for a worthy challenge. Compared to that, what's the difference in waiting for a few more?'_

 **-OBW-**

 _The next day…_

Acnologia was watching his son doing laps around the mountain. He was in dragon form and was currently lying on the snow. Bahamut was improving little by little by the day in terms of physical status. That was very good; as a mage, his magic would improve the more fit he was – and the Dragon King expected no less than perfection, in the end. Speaking of magic…

" **Whelp!"** he called out as the boy finished another lap. He skidded on his short feet and paused to catch his breath before looking at Acnologia. **"I have a small errand to run today. Continue doing your exercises and practice drawing out your magic. I** _ **will**_ **find out if you slack off, so don't test my patience."**

The body nodded as he panted. Not letting him ask any questions, the Dragon King got up and took to the air. With a mighty flap from his wings, he headed northeast.

As the landscape passed below him, the black dragon thought about what he was about to do. _'I need a way to train the boy in actual fighting. While my spars with him do show progress, my skill level is just too high for him to adapt to – yet. As such, he needs a way to mark his progress efficiently. Since there is no way in heaven or hell I am taking in another human – my tolerance is worn out as is – I am going to have to find a way to do so, and I think I know just how.'_

He kept flying high in the sky so that no one could see him, yet low enough for him to see everything passing below him. A while later, an immensely tall mountain range appeared in the distance. Unlike the white slopes of Mt. Zonia, these mountains were dark and ashen, but a few spots of green marked their slopes, showing small signs of life. He flew over the mountains until he paused to land on one of their peaks. He raised his snout as he gazed at a sight which he had thought he would never see again.

In front of him was a large bowl-like valley, with wide-open plains that were once green and lush, now ashen black and marked with a smoking red. In the distance, a tall temple-like castle stood, worn and charred, surrounded by crumbling walls. A few towers stood, each bearing a broken statue of a dragon.

This was his old home. His old sanctuary before he ascended. The place where Dragon Slayer Magic was born from the pact between dragons and humans – the old kingdom of Dragnof, now nothing more than battered ruins and a reminder of a once peaceful time, hidden away from the world.

' _Has it really been 400 years?'_ Acnologia thought as he stared on. _'Even now, the ruins look nearly the same as I left them, on that thrilling day.'_ Despite having no attachment to the kingdom, a sense of nostalgia rose in the dragon's chest. It was not necessarily a weakness, so he allowed it to spread.

He took off from the peak and flew towards the walls. A few seconds later, he landed in front of the main gates, which were broken and smashed. He turned back into his human form and looked up at the tall walls, memories flooding him from a time he had thought forgotten as his cloak and hair billowed in the winter wind. With a sigh, he walked to the gate and gave the tall wooden doors a powerful push, which obliterated them into dust and woodchips.

He walked through the main street as he gazed at the scenery. Houses where people once lived in, filled with warmth and laughter, were now abandoned and lifeless. Vines covered every structure and street. Bones of humans and the occasional dragon were scattered all around. Fountains, parks and markets were barren and desolate. The whole scenery resonated well with the gray and cloudy sky, shrouding the kingdom in an aura of death and despair.

' _Why do I still remember this?'_ Acnologia thought as he approached the temple-like structure, images from a past so distant it might as well be a long-forgotten dream. _'No, not even a dream. More like a dream in a dream.'_

He arrived at the castle and entered it. Walking down the main hallway, he noticed that despite being the tallest structure in the valley, it was remarkably well-preserved, with the exception of a few of the roofs. In fact, the whole city seemed better off than he thought it would be. _'How can that be? I don't smell anything alive in this valley. Maybe I was focused more on destroying the dragons than the city itself?'_ He shook his head to clear his mind of such quandaries. _'Bah, no matter. As a matter of fact, this will make things easier in the long run.'_

He soon arrived at a large intersection, where the hallway split left and right. A tall statue of a dragon draping its wings over a human family and a large spiraling staircase that went up and down stood in front of a pair of large windows, with the faint sunlight streaming in, giving the structures a pale aura. Acnologia walked to the staircase and descended it, dust rising from the stone steps with every step he took. He arrived at a lower floor where a wider hallway lay, flanked with arches and doors. The whole hallway was pitch-black of course, since there was no source of natural light to illuminate it, but the Dragon King's enhanced eyesight allowed him to see as though he was on a clear and sunny field.

He walked down the hall until he arrived at one of the doors on the far-right end. He gently opened the door to the sight of an enormous library, lined with towering bookcases filled with shelves of books and scrolls. Pieces of papers and parchment lay scattered across the floor. In the corner, he could see a small stairwell that led downstairs, presumably to another level. A strong musky smell hit his nose, which made him grin. _'One thing that stood the test of time'_ he thought as he looked around _'is a dragon's love for hoarding treasure, and these books are no exception. A dragon will do anything to safeguard his hoard, even after death. I know that those so-called 'Magic Council' members would murder each other to get their hands on the knowledge here._

 _Unfortunately, I cannot take all of the books here. Fortunately, this valley is protected by a mountain range that can only be accessed by dragons or by select paths that are probably long gone. That, and I don't believe that this place is on any map in any country.'_ He wordlessly raised his hand a conjured a floating ball of light that illuminated the vicinity around him. He needed extra care for this. _'Time to get to work.'_

And so Acnologia began wandering through the bookcases, searching book upon book and scroll upon scroll. He used a ladder he had found propped up on one of them, careful not to harm the aged scriptures. He skipped some of the obvious titles, while sometimes he had to rifle through some books individually. Again, he had to do so with great care, as most of the pages were yellowed with age. While he did find the search a bit tedious, he mentally filed titles and shelves that could be of some use in the future, so it wasn't a total waste.

Eventually, he had gone through half the bookcases on that floor when he arrived at a bookcase that was filled with various spellbooks. He propped the ladder against it and climbed up a few steps, his keen eyes scanning the titles. He had reached the tenth shelf (every bookcase had fifteen) when his eyes landed on a book with a promising title on its spine: _Master's Training Grimoire._

He pulled the book out of its shelf and blew on the cover, the dust flying off it to reveal the same title with blue letters. He carefully opened the book and saw that the pages were better preserved than the rest of the books here, probably due to the magic emanating from it. He flipped over the first page to see that a nice index was written out for him. ' _Humans'_ he scoffed. _'They need to organize everything. Saves work for me, though.'_

He scrolled through the index until he reached a line that read:

 _Phantom Adversary – Page 14._

He flipped over to the aforementioned page and smirked at what he saw, as this was what he had been hoping to find:

" _ **Phantom Adversary**_ _is a spell commonly used by adept to master-level conjurers, although magic casters with enough power and focus have been known to commonly use this spell for practice sessions or distractions. When cast, this spell will create a solid phantom in the caster's image. It is important to note though that the phantom will always be humanoid and featureless – meaning no face or other distinguishing bodily features. The caster can decide how strong, fast or durable the phantom will be by the amount of magic power that he/she uses to cast it. Like all conjured entities, the phantom will obey the caster's every command and will dispel when the caster commands it to or when it has sustained enough damage. The phantom can also attack by mimicking its caster's physical attacks (via magical imprint)._

 _To cast this spell the following magic circle must be cast and…"_

Acnologia took a look at the circle as he descended the ladder. Magic circles were somewhat of an oddity in the magical arts. They were sometimes used when casting complicated spells for the first time or when a very high-level magic needed to be cast, but after the first few tries they were no longer needed. Fortunately, he still knew how to use magic circles from his early dragon slaying days, as some of his attacks required frequent use of them before he could do them instinctually. He looked around until he spotted an empty corner of the library. _'Time to test it out.'_

He went to the corner and held the book in one hand with the page open and raised the other hand with the palm pointing to a spot on the floor. He took a look at the circle and said **"Phantom Adversary".**

A pale-blue magic circle appeared on the spot his palm pointed to and a pale-blue figure arose from it. The magic circle disappeared and Acnologia looked at the apparition he had summoned. It looked humanoid and had no face, just like the book said. Pale-blue wisps of magic emanated from its body.

"Attack me with a charging rush attack" he commanded. The apparition responded by charging at him and rapidly striking at him with a flurry of punches at different points. He didn't feel anything of course, but after a few seconds he got annoyed and flicked his finger at the phantom's chest, which made it promptly dissipate.

' _Well, at least it seemed to fulfill its purpose'_ he thought as he flipped through the books pages. _'There are a lot of useful training spells here too.'_ He tilted his head up and looked around the library. _'Now that I think about it, it will save me time if I pick up a few more books that could be used for training.'_

He let out his signature sadistic grin. _'Looks like the whelp will have to fight harder if he wants to keep up from now on…'_

 **-OBW-**

Bahamut was walking back from the forest after a small trek/practice round with a satisfied smile on his face. His father had instructed him to practice drawing out his magic after his physical exercises, but it was harder than last time. The memories that arose from drawing out his magic made him uncomfortable, and for some reason the mountain looming in the background didn't help things. So, after deciding he needed a change of scenery, Bahamut jogged to the forest where he sat down next to a tall tree (where he could see the way out – he didn't want a repeat of last time) and began calling forth that spark again. Much to his relief, the calm atmosphere of the forest did wonders to calm his mind whenever the memories arose, thus enabling him to summon the spark with more ease and speed than last time, a trend which continued the more he did it.

An hour of spark-summoning, meditating and physical activities later (followed by a small fruit snack) he headed back to the mountain. He was about to jog the last kilometer when he saw a familiar shadow high in the sky. He paused to look at it and jumped back in surprise when Acnologia's scaled form landed next to him, sending snow flying in all directions. A flash of blue light later, his father's blue-haired human form stood before him with…were those books under his arm?

His father turned to face him and stared at him. Just as Bahamut was about to ask what was wrong, the older man raised his arm and a blue circle appeared on the ground in front of him. Out of that circle rose a ghost-like man, around his father's height, with no face. He looked at it in awe. Was that magic?

He was broken from his stupor when he heard Acnologia say "Attack." The phantom suddenly rushed at him and punched him in the gut, sending him tumbling backwards.

Bahamut got up and faced the phantom, which had now adopted a guarding stance. "Show me that all of this training wasn't a waste" he heard his father say before the phantom rushed at him once again. This time though, he was prepared.

He dodged a few of the punches that were thrown at him before he was forced to guard a side-kick with his arm. The phantom then punched him with an uppercut, sending him flying backwards into the snow. He got up just in time to see the phantom rush at him with a fist cocked back, which he promptly dodged.

The next few minutes were a bit of a blur, with Bahamut utilizing his small frame to dodge the ghost's punches and landing in a few good hits of his own. Unlike the spars with his father, he could properly react to the ghost's attacks, since it seemed like it was slower – which it probably was.

After those few minutes though, Bahamut had leaped up as the ghost bent down a little to punch him and smashed his fist on the ghost's cheek, which made it stumble backwards. He rushed at the ghost, taking advantage of his moment of confusion, and rapidly punched it in its face and chest. He moved backwards, his fists burning from his onslaught and settled into a defensive stance. But the ghost fell down and vanished like the wind.

He heard a grunt from behind him and turned around to see his father standing there cross-armed with an unreadable expression his face. He then said "As you can see, this will be our new method of exercise. You will fight these apparitions daily, each time with different power and speed. I have also" he lifted up a book with blue letters "have a few exercises here for your magic. So you better keep up whelp, because training's going to get a lot harder from here on out."

Bahamut just panted in exhaustion, but inwardly he was grinning. This looked like a whole lot of fun!

Acnologia then put the books on the ground and let out his sadistic grin. "Hope you can still fight whelp..." he cackled as he leaped towards Bahamut, who cursed himself as he tried to dodge.

 _'I should really keep my mouth shut; it'll save me a lot of pain...'_

* * *

 **What do you all think? We have here our first glimpse at the ruins of Dragnof, which will appear in the future at some point. How is the visualization?**

 **Also, go check out "Eye of the Storm" by Lord of Daemons. It's a great quality Naruto fic with tons of detail.**

 **Go check out my other stories and see the challenges on my profile! (They're rather original plotlines)**

 **Read and Review!**


	6. Chapter 5 - Blood Sweat and Tears

**Hi guys! I'm back with a new chapter! But before we get started off, I want to say a few things, so PLEASE READ:**

 **1) I would like to thank Arawn D. Draven, author of The Bloody Ashikabi for helping me with this chapter. Nevertheless, I still need a Beta that can do spell checking, both in grammar and structuring, to help me make this story better than what it is currently. The position is still open and I hope one of you can help me. This position is especially important for fight scenes since I want to write them in the best possible way.**

 **2) Reviews are important to me. They not only show that people read my stories, but they help me improve them. It doesn't have to be very long (although reviews of that type are VERY much appreciated), even a "good job" or "great chapter" will do.**

 **Hope you all enjoy and constructive criticism is welcome! BETA NEEDED!**

* * *

 **I do not own Harry Potter or Fairy Tail.**

* * *

 **Chapter 5 – Blood, Sweat and Tears**

 _March, X774_

"Bahamut!" Acnologia snapped. "Are you paying attention!?"

The green-eyed mage snapped his head up at his father's yell. They were sitting in the cave and the Dragon King was just lecturing his son about proper combat stances. However, Bahamut had decided to try (in a rather foolish attempt) and practice channelling his magic behind his father's back.

Unfortunately, despite his intelligence, he was still seven years old and seven-year-olds tend to get rather distracted and have a short attention span; that, and he seemed to forget that his father was a dragon, whose senses were far sharper than that of any living creature, so its needless to say that he caught on the situation pretty quickly.

So there he sat, frozen in his meditative position, giving his father a sheepish look as the Dragon King crossed his arms and gave him an emotionless stare.

"Umm…yes" he said, trying to salvage the situation.

Acnologia merely raised an eyebrow, as if he was saying 'you are not fooling me'. Bahamut sighed and lowered his head; when his father did show some form of emotion in his eyes, it was as though he was able to relay entire sentences with a single stare alone. In addition to that, the Dragon King always picked up on his actions and intentions, no matter how much he tried to hide them.

"I was just…"

Acnologia grunted. "You were trying to work on your magic, were you?"

Bahamut nodded dejectedly in response. Acnologia let out a huff of exasperation as he looked at his charge. He was an eager and attentive student, no doubt about that, but his tendency to focus on subjects other than the lesson at hand was annoying.

"I…understand your desire, but there is a time for every lesson; right now, we are focusing on physical combat. You can return to practicing magic after this lesson."

Bahamut raised his head and asked wearily "Why? What good is fighting with your fists when you can use magic to do it?" The memories from Greegham Town flashed in his mind as he said that. Flames bursting all around him, Kazuto lying broken and bleeding near the man with the flaming axe…

Acnologia shook his head. "That is a saying for fools and weaklings. No son of mine will ever utter those words, understand!?" he asked, raising his voice slightly.

Bahamut flinched at his father's tone but nonetheless nodded. "To answer your question, the power of one's spells is directly proportional to their physical attributes and status, especially strength and endurance. Not only that, but a good mage fights with everything he has: mind, magic, and body. Those who do not become lazy and too reliant on their powers, thus creating weakness. I have seen many a mage who have wasted their lives learning powerful spells, only to have something as simple as a falling branch or a wild boar kill them within seconds. Even dragons abided by this rule; they were not only feared for their powerful flames and ancient magic, but also for their raw power and intimidating size. A mere flap of their wings could rip out trees from the earth, a single roar could shatter mountains."

Acnologia saw the awe spark in his son's eyes and knew he had his full attention. Mentioning dragons always seemed to do that. A little show could help in bolstering his resolve; after all, actions speak louder than words.

"By increasing your physical strength and endurance, you will gain an advantage over such weak people. Observe."

Acnologia turned and walked to the entrance of the cave, where he then proceeded to jump down and land near the mountain's base. He then started walking along the mountainside, eyes searching until he found a nice large boulder. He picked it up with the greatest of ease and leaped up to the height of the cave and scale the edge with one hand, the other lifting the boulder effortlessly.

He reached the mouth of the cave in little to no time at all and rolled the boulder in so that it sat in front of Bahamut, who simply looked at it with a confused expression.

Acnologia rested his hand on the boulder and spoke, not turning to look at Bahamut as he did. "It takes the strength of at least ten men to lift a boulder this big, let alone carry it up a mountain with the ease I have just demonstrated; while I did use a bit of magic to enhance my jump, it would mean little if I did not possess the capability to do so without it, furthermore…"

Acnologia cocked back a fist slightly and threw a punch, so fast that Bahamut barely saw his arm move. The boulder instantly shattered, with only small pebbles and a thin cloud of dust remaining. The Dragon King then turned to Bahamut, who's jaw practically fell through the floor, and resumed talking.

"I just smashed that rock with a single blow – and I didn't even use so much as a drop of magic. If you can attack your prey with similar strength and speed, then you can defeat them without you or them casting a single spell."

Bahamut just kept staring at the remains of the boulder with the same awe-stricken expression. What kind of strength was that!? "Will…will I become that strong?"

"If you follow my teachings? Eventually. Keep in mind though that I am a dragon, and as such, I have the raw physical strength of one, despite me taking the shape of a human. You however, are still human and your body is recovering from your past experiences. While you may not do exactly what I just did, you will be capable of performing similar feats on a lesser scale."

While the comment did slightly offend him, Bahamut nonetheless ignored the insult and matched his father's gaze with a determined look: he _will_ become as strong as his father one day.

"I'm surprised you even asked such a question; did you not perform several hunts before you started learning magic? Or have you simply forgotten everything I just said did up till now?"

Bahamut let out an embarrassed chuckle as he realized he _did_ briefly forget what he had done and what his father said before. "Heh-heh. Right, I'm sorry. It's just that –"

"We will focus on magic in our next lesson" Acnologia said, cutting him off. He kept looking at Bahamut and slowly started to smirk.

"While your enthusiasm is appreciated and shows I am not wasting my time on you, you still must be punished for not paying attention to the lesson at hand. Push-ups. NOW!"

Bahamut jumped from his position and started to do push-ups. That day he learned never to ignore his father's lessons, lest he receives a painful workout that would leave him a dry heap on the cold stone floor.

 **-OBW-**

 _June X774_

Four months later and summer had come. The days were longer and warmer in the Mt. Zonia region, although the snow never seemed to melt. Bahamut had taken Acnologia's words to heart, as always. He kept up with his physical training to the point where his body filled up nicely, now looking like a proper seven-year-old instead of a semi-malnourished street rat. There was nothing on his body to indicate any muscle though, as he hadn't trained enough for that. His knowledge grew with every book he got at Kilika Town – not a lot, but he treasured each one, especially the one he received from his father after one of his trips.

In parallel, Acnologia had taught him the basics of using magic, which mainly consisted of channelling magic power through his body in order to strengthen himself and his attacks. The Chaos Dragon had set up a training regimen where Bahamut would not use any magic during his physical training sessions and during his magic combat lessons, he was to maintain a constant flow of magic power through his body without letting it falter. While this proved difficult at first, Bahamut soon enough took to the art like a fish to water. He couldn't perform the feats Acnologia had demonstrated, but he was at a level where he could jump a meter and a half in the air and put a spiderweb crack on a similar boulder.

All the while, the young mage-in-training had never felt happier. Not only his father was training him in magic but was actually giving him advice! Sure, it didn't come often and was usually followed by an aggressive quiz or physical beatdown, but he nonetheless revelled in the attention his father gave him.

Despite all that, there were still a few issues that arose in Bahamut's training: Acnologia had to sometimes adjust his training exercises to fit his son's level, as he usually thought about a slightly weaker version of himself when preparing them – and Bahamut was _much_ weaker than that in his current state. The other issue lay in Bahamut himself; while he _could_ focus on whatever task was given to him, more often than not his attention was drawn to other matters. The problem also extended to his ability to multitask – he could not focus on more than two situations simultaneously. That problem however, unlike the previous one, was easily remedied by a swift spar which kept reminding him to not wander off. With Acnologia's…persistent…reminders, the problem slowly improved; the young mage still had a way to go, though.

Such was the case when Acnologia decided to test him by conjuring _three_ **Phantom Adversary** spectres and have them simultaneously attack the green-eyed child. Whenever Bahamut blocked a strike from one of the spectres, the other two would hit back twice as hard. The force of the blows sent him flying into the snow with very little time to stand up and recover.

"Be vigilant!" Acnologia instructed. "Focus on one of the targets, but always be aware of your surroundings and use them to your advantage!"

' _Use them to my advantage? What does he mean?_ ' Bahamut thought as he parried a side punch from Spectre #1 while trying to dodge a swipe kick from #2. He kept alternating between blocking, dodging and landing the occasional hit while trying to understand what his father said. Regardless of the situation, he _always_ took solace in Acnologia's wisdom, even if he had to decipher it first.

He had just dodged a powerful swipe kick when the attack hit the flank of another spectre (#3), causing it to stumble. Bahamut's eyes widened in realization; that was what his father meant! He could trick the spectres into attacking each other!

He side kicked an incoming Spectre #2, causing it to fall over. He turned around to see that the other two were charging him, with the closest one - #1 – cocking back a fist. Wasting no time, he dashed towards #1 as he charged his fist with magic, causing a faint blue aura to engulf it. He jumped slightly and punched #1 in #3's direction, causing them to crash into each other and collapse into the snow, where they dissipated promptly.

Bahamut had no time to enjoy his victory, for he heard #2's footsteps in the snowbank. He quickly turned around, fist still charged with magic and leapt at #2's faceless head, where he delivered a powerful blow that made the spectre vanish in the wind. The young mage landed feet-first in the snow, panting as a satisfied smile crept onto his face. He turned to his father, who kept staring at him with his now-familiar emotionless gaze. Half a minute later, he spoke.

"You seem to have some capability of listening to advice. Not only you tricked your prey into attacking one another, but you also remembered to aim for the weak points – in this case, you aimed for the head."

Bahamut's smile grew bigger at his father's words. That was as close to a compliment that he could be given without actually saying it.

"You performed this in an adequate amount of time for someone of your meagre skill level. It seems that you are ready to learn the next step in magical combat - projection. Observe."

Acnologia raised his arm to the side. A small sphere of magic formed in his open palm before flying towards a distant, solitary tree with a soft bang. The sphere hit its target and the tree exploded in a burst of light.

Once more, Bahamut was awestruck by his father's power – even though to Acnologia, that act was the equivalent of flicking a finger. He was broken from his reverie by Acnologia speaking again.

"Before I start explaining to you how this very simple act is achieved, you can stop the magic flow to your fist."

Acnologia watched in slight amusement as his adoptive son's face turned beet red as he hurriedly cut the flow. _'He channelled it unconsciously too. This is rather…intriguing.'_

Over the past several months, the Dragon King observed Bahamut's magic as the practice sessions grew more challenging. Just as he had seen on the day he had explained to the whelp about magic, Bahamut's "core" (he decided to call it that since it was nothing like a container) was adapting to the boy's needs and desires. The core now absorbed ethernano from the air exactly like a normal container and, dare he say it, better. Not only that, but it's magic-generating capabilities allowed Bahamut to maintain a longer and more powerful flow of magic than a regular mage-in-training would. The fact that he channelled it unconsciously was not only a testament to the boy's potential, but also to his lack of focus – his multitasking needed to be worked out. The slightest slip-up on the hunt caused the demise of many a hunter (or at least lose their lunch).

' _Regardless, if all goes well, I plan on not only ironing out his problems, but I will pound these lessons into his head so hard that by the end of the year, he'll be able to do them in his sleep. Oh well, no pain no gain as they say. Besides…'_ he grew a predatory smirk as Bahamut looked at him with confusion and now growing dread.

'… _all the more fun for me.'_

 **-OBW-**

 _July 31_ _st_ _, X774_

' _There is something off with Bahamut's behaviour today'_ Acnologia thought as he sat cross-legged in the cave. Indeed, throughout most of the day, the Dragon King's son seemed slightly distant. He showed no signs of this during today's lecture (as he should), but during combat exercises his blows came slower, he reacted with less speed than usual and didn't seem to focus on the spectre he had conjured – unusual since it was only one spectre.

Currently, Bahamut rested against the walls of the cave, reading one of his books. One thing that remained constant throughout Bahamut's stay in the cave was that whenever he didn't meditate on magic during his free time, he could be frequently seen with an open book. Thanks to the trips to the human town, he had a small collection of books near his fur bed. Most of them consisted of fairy tales, myths, and legends with the occasional history book thrown in.

' _Pfft. History my foot. I've taken a look at some of the 'history' in these books and half of them are exaggerations, a quarter of them lies and the other quarter genuine – and that is only if you read between the lines. I've seen several of those events happen with my own eyes so I know better.'_

The book Bahamut was currently reading was one of the only books he could acknowledge as real history. It was a journal, that depicted daily life in Dragnof before his ascension. He had taken it at random from the library under the ruins after searching for spell tomes (he didn't let Bahamut touch those tomes). The whelp grew starry-eyed and latched onto it, reading it and handling it as though it was a delicate and precious gem. Which it was, in a way.

But today, sometimes his eyes would glaze over as he read, as though he was recalling something that was particularly vivid.

Seeing as how this could prove hazardous in the future (and deep, **deep** in his mind, his own curiosity was piqued), Acnologia decided to address the issue in the most effective and straightforward way possible:

"You were sloppy today with your fighting, whelp."

Bahamut froze in full attention as Acnologia asked: "Why?"

The boy looked at him with a look that held several emotions: confusion, embarrassment, pain and some other emotion that he couldn't recognize. He kept looking at him like that until Acnologia continued. "Well? I'm listening."

The boy looked down at his book still holding that same look on his face. Eventually, he answered in a soft voice tinged with…fear?

"It's just…today is…my birthday."

Bahamut's (or rather, Harry Potter's) birthdays were an uncomfortable subject for the young mage. He had never known when it was during his early years under the Dursley's "care", only discovering it when he went to school. It wasn't any different from any other day of the year, save for the fact that his Aunt Petunia gave him a sock or some extra food. To Harry though – and subsequently, Bahamut – it was the only time of the year when someone ever gave him something, and thus had left an impression on him. A reminder of his days back when he was practically a slave. When he was weak.

He had hoped to try and forget about his past when he was adopted by the Dragon King, but his birthday had made a bigger impression on him than he thought. He had hoped to get something special as a gift today, despite knowing that Acnologia would never do such a _human_ thing and he didn't wish to be ungrateful for everything that he gave him.

How did he know it was his birthday? He was reading at the bookstore in Kilika when he saw a calendar open on the "July" month. After asking the shopkeeper what the date was, he mentally counted how many days were left. He didn't expect to actually remember though.

Not knowing this (despite having some inkling of an idea based on accounts of the boy's past and his performance today), Acnologia just grunted in acknowledgment before closing his eyes in meditation. He couldn't understand why humans celebrated birthdays. It was just a reminder that someone was a year older than last time and nothing more. Any effort put into that reminder was a waste of time and an indulgence in useless frivolity. Granted, enough of those meant that you've lived a long life and if you were a mage you were considered a master, but that was beside the point.

Bahamut expected for his father to not care so he wasn't offended by his dismissal. Yet some part of him still felt hurt. He tried to ignore it by going back to reading. It didn't last long though because a question arose in his throat and he blurted it out without thinking.

"When is your birthday?"

When was his birthday, Acnologia didn't remember or care. He had lived for so long that he didn't remember if he was 401, 402 or 403 years old, as the difference between them was inconsequential.

Bahamut didn't hear an answer, so he tried again. "Um…"

"I don't remember, nor do I care. I've outlived such things."

That shut Bahamut up and made him return to his book. But as he kept reading the journal, he couldn't help but start thinking.

' _He doesn't remember when his birthday is? That's…sad. Your birthday is something you're supposed to be happy about. I was always happier on_ _ **my**_ _birthday, I got a gift then.'_

He took a discreet peek at the meditating Acnologia. _'Maybe I should give him a gift sometime? He's done so much for me, I should give him something to show I'm grateful. But if he doesn't when his birthday is, how can I give him a gift?'_

He was about to dwell on the matter more when he came to one of his favorite sections in the book. All current thoughts were shelved as he started reading again. _'Maybe I should just forget it. If he doesn't care, then he won't mind.'_

Try as he might, the thought stayed in the corner of his mind, leaving him with confused emotions…

 **-OBW-**

 _October 31_ _st_ _, X774 – first human kill_

"Don't lose focus whelp."

Bahamut nodded and kept channelling magic into his outstretched palms, all the while looking at a large tree. As he did, a bluish-white sphere slightly bigger than his head formed in between his open palms, spouting sparks that flickered in the setting sun's light.

He almost had it. Just a little more…

"Fire!"

At his father's command, Bahamut gave the mental/magical equivalent of a powerful push that sent the sphere flying into the tree's trunk at high speeds. After it impacted the trunk, it went in a little deeper before bursting in a flash of light, leaving a large and deep circular imprint on the trunk.

As he surveyed the damage he had done, Bahamut nodded to himself in satisfaction. He had come far in terms of magical combat, now able to form magic spheres in a few seconds and fire them with enough force to kill a wild boar. In addition, his control over his magic channelling – which Acnologia had named **Reinforcement** – had improved to the point where he could reinforce both his arms and legs simultaneously. There were still a few issues, such as his **Reinforcement** being weaker when used on multiple appendages simultaneously or the fact that he still forgot sometimes to turn it off, but Acnologia said that enough training and experience would iron those out.

He turned to his father who alternating between looking at the damage and looking at him with the usual emotionless gaze. While used to the gaze, the young mage saw something different in his father's eye. He seemed to be contemplating something, but for the life of him, he couldn't tell what.

The fact that he managed to glean _something_ different was a testament to how much time he had spent under that gaze since even now he could never tell what passed through Acnologia's head.

This continued for a minute when his father nodded and stepped back a little. A familiar bluish-white aura enveloped his cloaked form and a crack of thunder later, the Black Dragon appeared and extended an open clawed palm to him.

" **Come."**

Bahamut stood back in momentary surprise and awe at the sight of his father's dragon form, but quickly shrugged and climbed onto the palm. With a strong wingbeat, they were high in the sky.

The snowy plains of the Zonia region were soon replaced by rolling hills and grassy plains. Every few minutes or so Acnologia would sniff the air before slightly veering in some direction. As the green-eyed child looked in wonder at the passing scenery, he couldn't help but wonder where was Acnologia taking him.

The sun had nearly disappeared under the horizon when Acnologia landed near the base of a small cliff. On top of the cliff was the beginning of a small forest. He dropped Bahamut on top of the cliff and transformed back into his human form, this time with a faint sizzle. A second later, he appeared next to the young mage with a powerful jump. To his credit, Bahamut barely flinched. Acnologia then headed into the woods, his son following him.

The last rays of the sun illuminated the autumn leaves of the woods with a fiery glow. The trees were packed closely together, leaving little room to walk between them and cast long, eerie shadows on the ground. The sky had turned dark, with a faint orange hue where the setting sun was. As the father-son duo delved deeper into the sea of trees, the sun's light slowly started to fade. On the outside, Bahamut's expression was emotionless as he walked behind his father, but on the inside, he was growing a little nervous as the shadows of trees and leaves seemed to form strange and mysterious shapes in the dimming light, with only the muffled sound of their footsteps against the ground and the occasional soft whisper of the wind.

At some point, they had reached a small stream which they followed. As the stream led them into the very thick of the woods, Bahamut saw a faint light in the distance, along with very faint laughter. The two headed in the direction of the light until they reached a pair of trees and a bush, which hid the source of the light and noise.

Acnologia motioned the young mage to step closer and after he did, he parted the bush slightly and motioned him to peek through. With trepidation, Bahamut slowly peered through the bush.

What greeted him was the sight of several humans sitting around a campfire. They were seven in total, with six of them wearing tattered grey clothes, each with a weapon beside them and the last one (who seemed to be the leader) wearing a black hood and cloak, with a jewel-capped staff by his side. The five were either drinking, eating meat from a spit that hung over the fire, or laughing with rough, rocky voices. The cloaked man simply rested against a tree, fingering his staff.

Bahamut didn't understand why Acnologia brought him here. There was something off about those men. He was about to turn and give his father a questioning stare when one of the men spoke up.

"We sure got lucky, runnin' away from those knights."

"You got that right! Did ya see the looks on their faces? They were pathetic!" another man said before he chugged on a bottle.

"Yeah, yeah" a man with a thin moustache replied. "But you all gotta give credit to the boss here." He gestured to the cloaked man, who sat there silently. "He's the one that tricked those knights!"

"Right, right, thanks boss!"

"Better yet…" a fat man with a bandanna over his right eye got up and went over to a curtain of vines. "Look at all the loot we got!"

He parted the curtain to reveal a cart that had three large sacks, all opened up to reveal gleaming gold coins. Attached to the cart was a giant cage with wheels. It was the contents of the cage that made Bahamut freeze in shock.

Inside the cage were a dozen people – six children, four men and two women – all dirty, chained by the legs and huddled together, faces alight with fear.

As Bahamut looked at the scene with growing alarm, the bandit kept talking in a joyous and avaricious tone.

"Priceless gold coins from the Royal Treasury itself! Not only that but a nice-looking batch o' cargo!" He walked to the cage and leered at the women, who scrambled back in fright. "Now these are fine-lookin' specimen. Hey boss! Mind if I take one of them out for some _fun?_ " he asked while reaching to grab the ankle of one of the women. Just as he touched her though, a cold voice spoke up and silenced the whole camp.

"Do not touch the cargo."

Bahamut quickly turned his head and found out that the voice came from the cloaked man. The fat man froze for a moment before slowly retracting his arm.

"Our client requested that we bring them alive and _unspoiled._ He has ways of knowing, so if you cannot control your urges, leave us.

Just know that if you do, you will not get even a jewel of the share."

The fat man scowled before spitting to the side and walking back to the campfire. "Tch. Fine. Sorry boss."

"Hmm, while we're at it," the moustached man said, drawing the attention of the camp. "Who _is_ our mysterious client and why would he need this…cargo? As far as I know, you've never seen him before, haven't you boss?"

The leader grasped his staff and held the gem-tip in front of his face. "That is true. I tried digging around, but I have no solid information on who our client might be. A courier asked to do business with me in his name – not that he gave me one, but that's irrelevant. But from what I have managed to glean, there seems to be some sort of construction project that our client doesn't want the Magic Council to know about, hence the…alternative means for labour."

The man 'ahh'ed or nodded in understanding, bar one who just looked at the boss with a confused expression. "Huh?"

"Someone's building something secret and we don't know who." That man 'ahh'ed as well before returning to his bottle.

"We rest for a few hours. I will stay on guard. We must leave this forest by first light."

The men grunted and muttered 'yeah, yeah' before going back to their business, albeit with no laughter.

Bahamut observed the scene with growing confusion and resentment. He didn't know why but the sight of those people in the cage made him angry. He was about to keep watching when Acnologia slowly pulled him back, the bush rustling faintly enough for no-one to hear.

He looked at his father and whispered: "Who are these people?"

Acnologia crouched down slightly so that the child could hear him. "These are some of the lowest forms of life among humans: bandits. They prey on and steal from other humans, serving their own twisted pleasures."

Bahamut nodded in recognition while breaking down the sentence in his head: They're called bandits, and they are thieves and bad people.

"What about the…people in the cage?"

Acnologia looked at him dead in the eye and answered without a shred of emotion: "These are slaves. Humans who were taken from their homes to work for rich or powerful humans until they die, for nothing."

' _Until they die? For nothing?'_ Bahamut thought as the dread and anger within him grew. That sounded suspiciously like what he had gone through before Acnologia came. The Dragon King picked up on his thoughts by the horrified and angry expression on his face and answered the unspoken question:

"They will become what you were once, but worse."

His suspicions confirmed, Bahamut clenched his fist in anger. They were going to become what he was!? Broken, sad and beaten to work for more bad people!? "We've got to do something!" he said. He couldn't let such a thing happen to those people.

"You will."

Some of Bahamut's anger faded and was replaced with confusion. "Huh?"

"If you want to save these humans from bondage, you have to fight the bandits."

…

…

…

"W-what? I have to…to –"

"Why do you think I brought you all the way here? If you want to save these humans, mere words will not suffice; you must take action yourself."

Bahamut stared at his father slightly open-mouthed before dropping his gaze to the floor. "Do you think that I can…beat them?"

"I would not have brought you here if I didn't think you possess the necessary skill level to do so."

' _Although…'_ Acnologia shifted his eyes ever so slightly in the leader's direction. _'That human is most definitely a mage. I have not trained him enough on fighting mages despite our target practice sessions. That will have to be remedied later; for now, I shall dispose of this insect.'_

He returned his gaze to Bahamut, who looked at the ground with a conflicted expression. A few seconds later, he lifted his head and made eye contact.

"I'll…I'll do it."

Acnologia couldn't help but smirk as his son peered through the bush once more.

' _Show me, Bahamut. Show me that I made a good choice by making you my son.'_

 **-OBW-**

Six-year-old Kagura Mikazuchi shivered as she shifted away from the bars. She could hear and feel the others around her shivering in fright, along with a woman's choked sob.

She didn't blame her. In fact, she was nearly ready to cry at the futility of the situation. It was only the fear that the fat bandit could come back and try to do something with her made her stay silent.

' _Why is this happening?'_ she thought. It wasn't like she did something horrible to deserve this fate. Until she was five, she lived with her brother Simon in a small village called Rosemary Village. Despite the fact that they were orphans and poor, the villagers treated them like they were family and they led a very happy life.

But then the bad men came. The black-haired girl shivered even more as she recalled the memories of that awful day. Bad people in black cloaks had come into the village and razed it to the ground. Not only that, all the children in the village were hauled into cages like this one and taken away, including her brother. It was only thanks to an older girl pushing her inside a crate that she escaped them.

After they left, Kagura left the ruined village to find some food and shelter. Once she had marginally recovered, she started searching for her brother. In the year between then and now she had trained slightly, stealing food and hiding so that she could fight back. It was all for naught though – she was travelling on a forest-side road with some kind strangers when those bandits attacked. After they had killed the strangers, she was dragged by her head and thrown into the cage, knocking her out. When she came to, she found herself with all those poor people.

She started to feel drowsy from the stress and felt her eyes slowly closing. _'Brother…I'm sorry but…I don't think I'll find you.'_

But just as she was about to fall asleep, a loud bang and a flash of light shook the camp. She looked over to the fire where the bandits were sitting and saw that one of them – the short man with a large bottle – had slammed into a tree, with a large and nasty-looking burn mark on his back. The men shouted in alarm as they scrambled to get back up, clutching their weapons. But before they could fully regain their bearings, two spheres of blue light (' _magic'_ she thought) shot out of a bush and impacted – one on another bandit which sent him falling and the other on the ground near the fire, sending dust flying all around them.

A small form jumped from the bushes and dashed to the moustached crook, where it punched him in the leg, causing an audible _crack_. The bandit screamed in pain but didn't have time to fall as the figure jumped up and punched it sideways on the skull. Another _crack_ was heard and he fell over, unconscious and with a broken jaw.

The figure dropped down from his small leap and turned its face to the other bandits, and subsequently, the cage. Kagura was shocked as the figure's true visage was revealed in the fire's light.

It was a young boy, barely older than her by the looks of it. He wore blue closed sandals and grey baggy pants that didn't look too big on him, along with a black shirt slightly torn at the sleeve edges. He had messy black hair that reached down to his shoulders and vibrant green eyes that hid behind a pair of glasses. An emotionless expression was on his face, but as he looked around him his brow and nose wrinkled slightly in what seemed to be revulsion.

The fat bandit grasped the handle of a large axe. "Who are you, brat!?"

The boy didn't answer, but he did turn to him and parted his lips slightly in disgust.

"Did you do that, brat!? If you don't talk now I'm gonna gut you like a fish!"

Again, there was no answer from the boy. He bent his knees and slightly raised a clenched fist, which was revealed to be faintly glowing. At this point, the leader decided to speak up.

"Hmm, so you were the one in those bushes. I'm guessing that you overheard everything, right?"

The boy remained in his position, but then he slightly tilted his head down and back up again.

"Then it looks like we have some opposition. I will give you one chance, child. Leave now and forget what you saw and nothing will happen."

Kagura thought that he would leave, especially since he was outnumbered, but instead, he bared his teeth in anger and the glow around his fist increased.

The leader sighed. "Very well." He raised his staff, which started to glow an eerie purple, at the boy. "At best, we will have more pay when we arrive…"

The leader was suddenly cut off when something blew past the whole camp, leaving a powerful gust that made the cage-carrying wagon rock from side to side and made Kagura shut her eyes. When she opened them again, she (and everyone else, bar the boy) was shocked to see that the leader had vanished.

"B-boss!"

"Where did he go!? What was that!?"

"I don't know man! This forest is starting to creep me out! First this kid and now this!?"

The boy then dashed across the camp to one of the bandits – a tall thin man with a small beard – and attacked him, jumping once more and delivering the bone-cracking head-blow that made his moustached comrade fall. This time however, the top-left part of the face seemed to be blown off, leaving a small pool of blood and brains to leak out onto the ground.

The remaining slavers (including the one he had knocked over earlier) turned to him with shock and horror at the sight of their fallen friend. The only sound that was heard crackling on the campfire. Even her fellow inmates fell silent – they stopped shivering and seemed to wait with bated breath at what would happen next.

The silence was then broken by a scream. "RUN!"

 **-OBW-**

Bahamut cringed in further disgust as the revolting men started to run away at their comrade's scream. Not only were those people horrible by selling…slaves (the word still left a bad taste in his mouth), but they were blubbering cowards that ran at the first chance they got. A normal man – especially someone his age – would let them run, but he had to make them pay. Besides, his father taught him better than that.

' _If you are certain that your prey is weaker than you, NEVER let it escape. We are hunters, predators, and we do not let go of what we choose to hunt.'_

He was about to run after them when fat bandit roared in rage and leapt at him with his axe. Acting completely on instinct, Bahamut cocked back his fist and charged it with as much magic as he could, while sending some to his legs. A bright blue aura formed around his fist – enough to illuminate the trees beside him – and he leapt at the man, sending his fist flying towards _his_ _prey's_ torso. But instead of simply hitting him and knocking him out on one of the trees, both of them were sent flying in the same direction, crashing into a tree.

Bahamut shook his head as he tried to clear the haziness that had just popped up in his head when he felt something hot and sticky envelop his arm. His eyes slowly trailed up from the ground only to widen in horror at the sight before him:

His fist was buried in the chest of the bandit, who had fallen limp against the tree, his uncovered eye blank and his mouth open and leaking blood from the side.

The young mage quickly tried to pull out his arm, only for it slowly come out, making squelching sounds as it did. Bile rose in his throat and his vision became hazy as he stared at the appendage, which was now covered in blood and muscle tissue. His clean hand covered his mouth as the realization of what he had just done hit him like an avalanche.

' _I…I killed him…'_

His eyes darted back and forth from the corpse to his hand, a heavy feeling in his stomach growing with each second. The sound of his heartbeat and his breathing seemed to intensify and he took a few steps back, trying to ignore the smell of the body – if it was pungent before, it won't be long before it would get worse.

As his eyes darted, he caught sight of the fallen moustached bandit, the bandit with the seared back and the thin bandit out of the corner of his eye and the sight of blood trickling from their skulls caused the same realization to pop up once more, intensifying the bile in his throat: he had killed them too.

' _Why…why did I kill them? I meant to just knock them out…they weren't supposed to die…they didn't deserve to die…'_ he thought with growing distress as the world seemed to tilt a little.

A sudden sob drew his gaze to the slave cage, where all of its occupants stared at either him or the corpses, fear and some relief showing in their eyes against the light of the red embers. In particular, a girl with yellow eyes and a white ribbon tied around her head gave him a look with a myriad of emotions, but he was too distracted to tell.

' _But…they were about to sell those people…they would've given them away and they all would've been b-beaten or worked to d-death. I saved those people…those bandits deserved to die. Then why…? Why am I feeling sorry for them…I shouldn't feel sorry…they were bad people…they were thieves and killers…but I killed them, so does that make me a killer? Am I a…bad person now?'_

Approaching footsteps drew his attention but did not snap him out of his internal questioning. Out of the shadows stepped Acnologia, expression stoic as always. As he stepped closer to him, Bahamut noticed some stains on the edge of his cloak, probably blood.

Father and adopted son soon stood in front of each other, the flames illuminating the camp in a dreadful, prophetic red glow. The Dragon King simply stared at the young mage, who could not even bring himself to look back at him. The silence stretched on for a few minutes, disturbed only by the crackling of the wood as the flames consumed them. Even the slaves didn't dare make a sound; it was as though they were witnessing a sacred ritual, one that should not be disturbed by onlookers.

Finally, Acnologia broke the silence, his voice both silent and echoing.

"So, you did it."

 **(Naruto OST – Itachi's Theme)**

His voice held no tone of either approval or disapproval; just factual statement, as though one was talking about the weather.

A slight stirring from within the cage caused it to squeak, attracting Acnologia's attention. He stared at it for a few good seconds before sighing and flicking his finger at one of its corners. A spark of magic shout out from the finger and at the corner, causing the cage to open its doors. The slaves silently stepped out of the cage, giving the duo looks of gratitude and caution.

Acnologia motioned sideways with his head. "Go."

Within several seconds, the slaves had left, the clanking of their chains fading in the background. He returned his gaze to Bahamut, who remained as still as before.

"Speak."

The young mage twitched his bloodied fingers for a moment before speaking in a quiet, shaking voice. "Th-those men…I k-k-killed them."

"You did."

"They were b-bad people. They pro-p-probably k-killed other people b-before, right?"

"Most likely."

"Th-they were g-going to s-sell those s-slaves, t-they were going to k-kill more p-people."

"Yes."

"T-they deserved to d-d-die, right?"

"Yes." Even though Acnologia was a complete apathetic to humans and their affairs, there were some things that even he would consider repulsive; slavery and rape among them. (It further worsened his opinion of humans, but that was beside the point).

"B-but I k-killed them…j-just like that…I didn't even give them a ch-chance."

He raised his head to look his father in the eye, his own eyes full of confusion, horror, and despair as tears started to drop. He raised his hands – one covered with blood and death, the other clean and untainted – and asked in a voice filled distress:

"Does that make a k-killer? A-am I a b-bad person?"

The ancient Dragon Slayer said nothing for a few moments, his sharp eyes staring into Bahamut's own. Then, he turned his gaze to the dying fire and started to speak.

"In life…there are no such things as 'good' or 'bad'. Those are just terms that one side gives to the other to justify their own actions. While there are some acts that are considered universally wrong and should never happen – what you saw just now a prime example – the line between those two terms is very thin and faded."

He turned to look his son in the eye once more. "In life, every being, be they sentient or animalistic, struggle to survive in the harsh existence that is the world. If you are strong you live, if you are weak you die. You survived all that has happened to you before we met because you possessed strength, although not in the way that most think of.

To survive, you must become strong, to become strong you must let nothing impede you and you will sometimes have to commit acts that at first thought will go against what you believe in. Men conquer, fight and slay their own brethren to survive just as animal hunt each other to live; even dragons are not exempt from that rule.

You killed those men, and by doing so you proved they were weak, not only in body but in mind. By killing them you have gone up a step in your strength. You believed they were bad when I told you what they were, and you let that belief guide your actions. You have proven that your beliefs are correct when you ended their lives. If you let your morals hinder you, your strength will falter and you will fall.

I brought you here today to test your resolve. From what I have gathered you performed well until you let your guilt attack you. Let this be three new lessons I pass unto you:

The first, never feel guilt or remorse towards the enemy, for it may one day be your downfall.

The second, you must be willing to do whatever it takes to survive, but not at the expense of yourself or your beliefs.

The third, strength does not just come from physical capacity, it also comes from an indomitable will. You survived your trials and tribulation because of your will, and you shall do so again in the future."

Silence reigned over the camp. Bahamut kept staring at his father as he tried to fully understand the meaning of his speech. Yet every time he thought he had come close, a feeling in the back of his mind kept popping up; what it was he wasn't sure.

Acnologia broke eye-contact first and looked around the camp, only to stop and sniff the air slightly. "It seems as though those vermin are trying to flee. Wait here for I will return momentarily."

With that, he vanished in a blur of speed, leaving Bahamut in his inner turmoil as the dark shadows of the camp seemed to envelop him, as though the Grim Reaper himself was watching, silently observing the event that would leave a mark on the young mage's soul forevermore…

* * *

 **What did you all think? I would especially like thoughts about Acnologia's speech at the end; I feel it was the most important part of the chapter.**

 **I will also add dates from now on whenever there is a scenery shift to avoid confusion about timelines and age.**

 **The omake challenge from Chapter 3 is still open! How would a conversation between Acnologia and Bahamut go when discussing "the birds and the bees/ the facts of life"? PM me for a response and the best one will be posted next chapter!**

 **Go and check out my other stories and the challenges on my profile and show them the same love you do to this story!**

 **Read and Review!**


	7. Chapter 6 - An Unexpected Journey

**Hi guys! It's me again with a new chapter!**

 **Sorry it's been so long, as it turns out, writer's block and tests are a recipe for stagnation, so I haven't been able to get this chapter as soon as I wanted to.**

 **But I have to say...WOW! 450 Faves and 591 Follows! I am SOOO HAPPY! Let's make 100+ reviews!**

 **I have a new beta called ShimmerOnIce, and this is her first beta chapter, so give her a round of applause!**

 **Hope you all enjoy and constructive criticism is welcome!**

* * *

 **I do not own Harry Potter or Fairy Tail.**

* * *

 **Chapter 6 - An Unexpected Journey**

 _February, X775_

Bahamut was standing in the snowy plain, with one arm outstretched and the other hand grasping it. His eyes were narrowed in concentration and his stance was wide.

A blue sphere formed in his outstretched palm and started to grow, with blue tendrils of energy coiling around it. Within seconds, it grew to twice the size of the young mage's head.

He then thrust his palm, and the sphere flew out into the plains. Three seconds later, a burst of energy in the distance appeared, confirming its impact.

Bahamut took a moment to readjust himself, before nodding in satisfaction and **reinforcing** his limbs. He began executing a series of moves and steps, leaving faint glowing blue trails in his wake.

All the while, Acnologia sat cross-legged on a nearby boulder, watching his adopted son train. As usual, his face showed no emotion, but on the inside, he was making observations.

It had been several months since Bahamut had liberated those slaves and performed his first human kill, and it appeared that the experience left quite a mark on his young protégé. He didn't speak as much as he used to and sometimes wouldn't talk at all unless he was asked a question. His curiosity and attentiveness still remained, but they had been dulled to the point where little emotion showed on the green-eyed mage's face.

At first, Acnologia thought nothing of it, assuming it was just a short phase until the speech he gave back in the forest finally sank in, so he allowed his son to sort the thoughts in his head by himself.

But it had reached a concerning point when Bahamut's brooding started to bleed over into his training.

It had happened at the beginning of December when the air had begun cooling and the occasional wisps of snow started to slowly float down from the heavens. Bahamut and Acnologia were in the middle of a spar, with the child being permitted to use all that he had learned up till that point, no holding back. The Dragon King had even fired a magic blast or two to keep the child on his toes.

Bahamut had utilized his words of advice from throughout the past half-year and was doing a good job keeping up with him – for someone of his skill level at least. They were a few minutes into the spar when his protégé had managed to dodge a barrage of punches from him and was about to deliver a powerful blow to his face. But as he charged up magic around his fist, his eye suddenly widened and his stance faltered.

That of course, was enough for Acnologia to send Bahamut sprawling into the cold white ground.

The child got up within a few seconds – impressive considering the force behind the blow – and was about to start again, but he froze once he saw the intensity of his father's gaze. It wasn't the usual emotionless stare he was used to receiving, for he saw a glimmer of emotion in those dark eyes – and it wasn't good.

The child gulped and tried to say something, but the words on his tongue were swallowed with each step the Dragon King took towards him until he stood right in front of his small frame. He slowly raised his head to meet his father's eyes with trepidation., only to flinch at the sheer intensity of the stare.

For a few moments, no sound was heard; only the soft blowing of the wind skirting along the snowy plains. But then…

"Why?"

It took every ounce of Bahamut's willpower not to flinch at the accusation behind the deep, emotionless voice of his father. He knew that he should've taken that hit – never show weakness to the enemy.

"I…It…"

But he couldn't help it; it was just like when he had killed that man. A fist through the chest. For a moment there he flashed back to that haunting sight; the bandit's empty gaze, his slack form, the _blood that flowed down to the ground and covered his arms in a mass of gore and muscle-_

"I'm…s-sorry…I should've taken that o-o-openin-ng…" he whispered in his timid voice as he tried to look back down, but he was frozen in place.

"Why didn't you?"

The insane part about all of this? He had compared _his father_ to the _bandit._ His father, Acnologia, someone he knew to be powerful enough to not even get scratched by any attack from him. Not only that, but he was told that what he did wasn't wrong and that it was good that those men had died.

"I know I shouldn't have…it's just that…it was like that time…"

Acnologia said nothing, but he knew what the unspoken words were. He would normally berate his student for such a foolish line of thought, but just as he was about to, something nagged at the back of his mind.

' _It will only make things worse.'_

He looked down at his son's green eyes and saw them glisten from the raw emotion swirling inside, like an emerald tempest. He saw sadness, frustration...and shame.

Taking a deep breath to try and calm himself, the Dragon King stared into his son's eyes and spoke with an iron tone.

"I will only say this once more and never again. It is not wrong to kill your enemies. You did the world a favor by slaying that filth. To spare them is to show weakness." He leaned down and lowered his voice, which made it all the more intimidating.

"Never show weakness."

He straightened himself and crossed his arms. "Do not let this happen again. Understood?"

The boy's eyes seemed to very slightly brighten at the (roundabout) confirmation but he was nonetheless very intimidated. As he should be. He nodded shakily in response.

"Good."

Acnologia looked at the sky for a moment, pondering something. "This round of training is over today. Tomorrow I expect double. I think that is an apt punishment."

With those words, he vanished in a blur of speed, leaving Bahamut all alone in the clearing.

Ever since then, Bahamut seemed to have taken in his father's assurance, and the faltering from his training didn't reoccur. Seeing how his progress remained steady, Acnologia had decided to finally teach him defence and attack against enemy mages.

The process was…difficult at first, since the dynamics of a magic battle were different than those of a close-combat fight, but Bahamut caught on rather quickly like he had with basic magic casting. He had studied the different forms of magic – Holder and Caster – a few branches of magic (he had not learned anything practical there), and he had learned a couple of basic spells. As of Acnologia's latest gauging of his abilities and the knowledge he had given him (via the spoken or written word), he estimated that Bahamut could handle a low-tier mage with ease, as well as some mid-tier mages, depending on what magic they used. It would take him a good while before he could begin handling high-caliber magic fights, but the Dragon King kept reminding himself to take one step at a time.

He was broken from his musing when he heard the sound of another magic blast exploding in the distance. Sure enough, Bahamut had his arm outstretched and a faint wisp of magic power blew from his palm.

He mentally chuckled at the satisfied smile on his son's face, probably thinking that he was king of the world with the power he possessed.

' _Oh, little whelp, you are nothing more than a grain of sand on this vast beach. Perhaps a little jolt will remind you of that…'_

Meanwhile, the young mage-in-training lightly panted as he felt his magic power slowly build up again. He was about to ask his father what he thought when he instinctively dodged to the side – just as the familiar outline of the Dragon King crashed beside him.

Even as Bahamut dodged, he had to drop down in hopes of avoiding his father's tail that swung at him. Then he had to try and dodge his claws. Yeah, this was a lot of dodging to do in less than half a second. Eventually, after another minute of attempting to doge over and over, Bahamut decided to let out a small blast of magic in hopes of getting some space between them. Unfortunately for him, Acnologia saw this and instead grabbed him with his teeth, then swung him into the tree line, leaving about a dozen trees lying on the ground as cushions for the young child.

"Enough. Now go out and hunt for an animal before coming back."

Bahamut nodded, then ran off into the woods in hopes of finding an animal to eat for dinner.

Eventually, February started to end, and March was coming with a bit warmer breezes, leading to Acnologia telling Bahamut to pack a bag with some clothes and fruit, as they were leaving. After doing as said, (with Bahamut not really questioning his father, just assuming that they were going into town for some supplies), Acnologia transformed into the Black Dragon in a flash of light. He lowered his arm down a little to pick up Bahamut in his open hand before flying off.

They flew southwest for a while, the landscape below them shifting into grasslands and forests, before Acnologia deemed them far enough, and landed in a forest, next to a cobblestone road. The Dragon King then let go of the young mage-in-training.

 **"You are to travel alone for a while so that you can gain enough skills in battle before you see me again. The next time we see each other, you should be able to hold up to me in a spar for thirty minutes."**

Bahamut stared at his dragon father in shock, not believing what his father said. He thought it was a joke at first, maybe even a test, but the Dragon King's hard stare (which spoke volumes despite the blankness of those eyes) the deafening silence that followed made his heart drop with fear, sadness, and betrayal as tears welled up in his green eyes.

"W-why? D-did I do something wrong? A-am I not training hard enough?"

Acnologia cut him off with a shake of his snout. **"All of that is irrelevant to this matter. Simply put, I have nothing more to teach you at this stage."**

The green-eyed mage blinked a tear away in confusion. "W-what do you mean? You still haven't taught me how to transform into a dragon, o-or how to –"

" **If you will allow me to finish…"** the Dragon King growled. Bahamut gulped and stayed silent.

" **Do you remember when I first started teaching you magic? When I sent a spark through your body and made you fall over?"**

A bit upset about that embarrassing scenario, Bahamut nonetheless nodded.

" **Good. In addition, do you remember what I taught you about ethernano and ethernano containers?"** Another nod.

" **Well, as it turns out…you don't have a container; at least, not the kind that I am familiar with."**

"W-what do you mean?"

" **You possess something that I have never seen before. Instead of a container that absorbs magic energy, you have a 'core' that both absorbs and** _ **generates**_ **magic energy. As such, your affinity for magic is higher than that of a regular beginner mage. Haven't you noticed that using magic was incredibly easy for you after a short while?"**

Bahamut tilted his head and flashed back to when he first practiced magic. Looking back at it now, he realized he managed to first use **Reinforcement** in less time than it took him to first project magic.

" **Hm. So you remember. It's good to know your memory is functioning well. When I sent that spark of magic into your body, your core clashed with my magic for a few seconds before adjusting itself. My hypothesis to that reaction is that the magic energy your 'core' generates is different than that of the magic found in this world, hence the pain you felt. Ever since then, you have been slowly adapting to the magic of this world every time you practiced."**

Bahamut nodded once or twice during the lecture, to show that he was listening.

" **But it's not enough. The magic I taught you is relatively basic and possesses no acute affinity – beginner's magic. Your 'core' needs to adjust properly to magic with some affinity to it before I can teach you the Arts of the Dragon Slayer, lest you die a horrific death. As such, I am sending you to learn magic on your own to help your 'core' adjust, and to make you stronger."**

Bahamut nodded in response, seeing the wisdom in his father's words. Despite that, the torrent of emotions within him rose once more and the tears flowed freely as the situation fully hit him.

But who could blame him? His own _father_ , the one who saved him from death, taught him how to be strong and was there for him when everyone else hated him or tried to kill him, was sending him away.

He didn't even know how long it would take. Days? Months? Years? How would he even go back?

Acnologia just looked at his adopted son with no emotion whatsoever. **"It's for your own good whelp. If you paid attention to my lessons, then survival would be trivial for you."**

The blunt words didn't exactly calm down his young protégé, but he didn't really care. The boy needed to learn about the world and anything that would make him a better challenge in the future was welcome in his eyes.

Through all the emotions, the green-eyed mage was able to remember the small present he had made sitting in his bag at his feet, which he seemed to have dropped after hearing his father's words. So just as the Black Dragon lifted his mighty wings, he called out:

"W-wait! I-I have something for y-you!"

The Dragon King paused as his son opened his bag. "R-remember when you sa-said that you didn't know your birthday? I-I made you a p-present. He-here!" He said as he managed to dig through his bag and find the small gift that he had planned to give his dad later on, but also while still trying to fight back the tears of betrayal that wanted to burn his eyes out.

Acnologia looked down and examined the object in his son's hands. It was a small carving of a crude dragon and a human, or at least a child. Most likely him and the young mage-in-training. The carving had the dragon curled partially around the young child in a way that a mother bear would her cubs. It was quite remarkable that the young child managed to carve something as detailed as this. It didn't have any _precise_ detail; just the basic shapes, but still…

Also, the fact that this was supposed to be a birthday present to him from the young one, was a surprise as well. He didn't think that the child would care enough to give him a birthday, never mind that it was the day that he was leaving the child alone.

He looked at the carving for a few seconds before asking: **"When did you make this?"**

"I-I made in the past t-two m-m-months. W-when we w-went into town, I g-got a book that said h-how to d-do it."

To Acnologia, this was a surprise; he didn't remember the last time he had received a gift from anyone. It didn't have any actual use; just something to look at. Still, it was the last time he would be seeing the whelp for a while…

He kept staring at the carving before gently plucking it with his claw, careful not to damage it.

 **"Um…thank you. For this"** he said as he stared at it in his clawed hands.

"Your-you're welcome."

With these final words, the old dragon started flapping his wings, before taking off to find a new place to rest and hide until he decided to go searching for the young child in hopes of seeing growth in his powers.

Bahamut, however, watched his father fly off until he could no longer see the black and blue dragon. Then turned away to travel into the forest surrounding him with a single tear of betrayal fell from the corner of his eye, down his cheek.

A breeze hit the nape of his neck which made him look around. While the forest wasn't very big and the road nearby looked inviting, it did little to soothe the distress coursing through his veins.

He took a couple of deep breaths to try and calm himself. Crying wouldn't help him now. He looked down at his feet and the bag in his hands. He didn't have much on him; some gold coins, a pair of clothes that would last him a week or so and three apples.

' _I won't last long with just these. I need to find a town or someplace to sit down and ask people.'_

His mind made up, he lifted his bag with a sigh and walked to the road. _'What am I supposed to do now? Father told me to learn some magic on my own, but how do I do that? Where would I even begin to look?'_

His eyes slightly narrowed at the thought of the Black Dragon. _'Why did he just leave me like that? Couldn't he have taught me himself?'_

The young mage-in-training quickly shook his head, dispersing such thoughts about his father. _'No, he said that it would be trivial for me to survive and that it's for my own good. I can't think badly about him like that; he never said anything wrong before and…he believes in me. He wouldn't have put me here if he knew I couldn't survive on my own.'_

The corners of his lips slightly curved upwards as his eyes gained a determined look. _'I won't let him down. I'll learn magic and I'll become strong. When he comes back for me to make me a dragon I'll show him what I can do!'_

He was broken from his reverie when he felt the ground harden under his feet. He quickly looked down to see that he was now on the road.

The green-eyed mage looked to both directions of the road. To his dismay, there was nothing to indicate any signs of civilization or otherwise in any direction.

' _It doesn't really matter then which way I go. Besides, it's a road. I should meet up with someone soon. But which way?'_

Bahamut kept looking back and forth between the two roads before sighing as he pondered what to do. His eyes kept wandering until he saw a small branch lying in the grass, with a leaf at one end. At the sight of the severed tree limb, a thought came to his head.

He went over to pick the branch up and went back to where he stood. He then tossed the branch up in the air, which then landed on the road, the side with leaf pointing ahead. He looked up at the sun to see which way it pointed.

'… _South-ish? Okay.'_

His gaze fixed on the road in front of him, Bahamut began walking ahead, a goal in his mind and resolve in his heart…

 **-OBW-**

 _A random inn, Clover Town, at the same time…_

Clover Town was a cheery settlement located on the eastern border of Fiore. It was surrounded by forests and was known to the citizens of the country as the meeting place of the country's Magic Guilds. It was a rather safe city, thanks to its importance and geographical location, so the inhabitants had little fear of attack. At least from the outside.

In one of the town's inns, a group of people sat together around a table; they consisted of three males and two females, all adults. They were chattering animatedly while holding cups of drink, although the two females seemed to be the focus of the conversation.

"Are you two doing alright?" one of the males asked.

The first female, a woman with dark-blue hair and yellow eyes, nodded at the man and smiled at his concern. "Again, we're doing just fine, thank you."

The man raised his hands in a mock gesture of self-defence. "Just checking, just checking. It's just that you acted weird today at the shop."

"It's just some jitters from handling the new merchandise, don't worry."

The man gave her a slightly skeptical look, but nonetheless accepted the woman's reasoning.

The other woman – who shared the first one's blue hair but was shorter and had brown eyes – looked at her companion and slightly frowned. She sighed and said "Sister, you're a bad liar. You shake when you're troubled; You're doing it now with the cup."

The sister looked down at the cup in her hands and indeed saw it was shaking. She tried grasping it firmly and smiled at her younger sibling. "I'm fine, you don't need to worry."

"Sister, this won't disappear until you talk about it."

The mood around the table grew somber as the sister looked down at her cup again, this time with a frightened look in her eyes. The men noticed this and put down the drinks.

The elder sibling kept looking at her cup until the brown-eyed woman rubbed her arm with care. She looked up at her and saw the assuredness in her eyes.

She bit her lip. "It's just that…I-I still remember it. I can hear that vile laughter in the night. I still _feel_ the chains around my neck when I doze off. I sometimes lie awake at night out of the fear that they may come back again."

Her voice had become broken as her sister kept rubbing her arm. The men had grim looks on their faces, with one of them gripping his cup tightly with rage.

"Sister, it's going to be alright. You're safe now, all of them are safe. Didn't you say that yourself?"

The taller woman let out a soft chuckle. "Yes, at least I'd like to think so. I sure hope they all managed to find their way home." A smile slowly started to grow on her face.

A grin crept across the second man's face as he noticed the woman's expression. "Ha, you're thinking about them again, are you?"

The woman snapped her head up and looked at him with a noticeable blush. The third man let out a chuckle of his own.

"Yeah, you've told us all about how you were saved by the 'mysterious little boy' and the stranger."

"The tall, dark, handsome and muscular stranger –"

"Flying in and kicking that bastard's ass all the way to the ocean –"

"Large black cloak, long and flowing blue hair with piercing eyes –"

" _And those rippling tattoos!"_ the men all called out before laughing with mirth, as the woman's blush slowly grew. She tried to make them stop, only for them to take another chug of their drink and resume laughing.

"Did he wear a necklace of red teeth?"

The group around the table stopped their short bout of merriment as their eyes turned to the source of the voice. Sitting next to a neighboring table was a young man with short dark hair and black eyes, wearing a high-collared black robe with golden trims, along with a white toga wrapped around his midsection. He held a cup in his hand and was looking down at it, examining the liquid. A walking stick was leaning next to him.

The group blinked at the young man in confusion. Was he there before?

"Did he have a necklace of red teeth?"

The tall woman guessed that he was asking her, so she replied. "Um…maybe? I…I think so. It was a bit too dark to see but I think he had one."

"Were his tattoos blue and looked like fire or waves? Did he have dark skin?"

"Y-yes, he did."

The young man's eyes narrowed slightly before muttering something under his breath. The group watched as he rubbed his chin before blinking and seeing a brief look of confusion flash across his face.

He turned to face them and asked. "What was that you said about a little boy?"

The woman scratched her chin in thought. "W-well, he was short, looked rather young. He had black hair and round glasses. I think he had green eyes…no I'm sure of it. I saw them very clearly."

"Did the tall stranger talk to the boy or anything of the sort?"

"Y-yes, he said something to him, but I couldn't hear. Then he snapped his fingers and the lock broke and we got out of the…" her voice trailed off as her eyes widened with fright and began shivering again. Her sister rubbed her shoulder once more while the first man patted her knee in a calming motion.

The young man looked at the group without a trace of emotion, although when he spoke, his voice had a tinge of softness to it, as if he had an understanding of the situation.

"Did the tall stranger look something like this?"

He pulled out a pencil and a slip of paper before scribbling on it and showing it to the woman. She rubbed her eyes to get rid of the tears that had threatened to slip and looked down at the paper.

"Y-yes, it's him."

The stranger put the paper in between his toga and pulled something out. He laid it on the table where it was revealed to be a shiny gold coin.

"I apologize for any trouble I may have caused. If you will excuse me, I have to go now."

With those words, he walked back to the table, took the walking stick in his hand and headed out the door. When he left the building, he started to walk quickly towards the town limits, all the while keeping a calm, yet troubled look on his face.

' _This is very…interesting and troubling news. I had thought him to have more patience than that. Besides, last I checked he hates humans. Looks like I have a little investigation on my part.'_

The young man looked up at the sky, his grip on his stick like iron.

' _What caused this change? Why the sudden interest?_

 _What are you up to…_

 _Dragon King Acnologia?'_

* * *

 **What did you all think? A bit cold of Acnologia, I know, but that's just how he is, and he did state previously (albeit to himself) that he couldn't teach him DS Magic until he got used to Earthland Magic.**

 **The carving is something that will have value in the story, and it will help Acno's character development. (I watched God of War 2018 walkthroughs, it kind of rubbed off...What? Kratos and Acnologia are similar...kind of...)**

 **Bahamut is left to train on his own! I wonder where he will go now...**

 **I will be trying to crank out more chapters quickly, but I am entering a tough period of my life - namely mandatory conscription - but no way in the seven hells am I giving up on any of my stories! I promise you that much!**

 **I have a poll on this story regarding Bahamut and our favorite destructive guild mages of Fiore, so go to my profile and vote!**

 **Check out my other stories and challenges!**

 **Read and review!**


	8. Chapter 7 - Where do I go from here?

**Hi! I'm back with a new chapter! I've just started the army - so it means less free time - and as such, I apologize for the short length of this chapter. Fear not though! I'm continuing this story!**

 _ **LOOK to the AN at the end of the chapter! There's an important announcement I have to make!**_

 **Hope you guys enjoy and constructive criticism is welcome!**

 **I do not own Harry Potter or Fairy Tail.**

* * *

 **Chapter 7 - Where do I go from here?**

It had been a couple of hours – or was it mere minutes? – since young Bahamut had begun his trek down the road, on his quest to find magic. It was after that timespan of walking that he hit a very big problem:

Where was he supposed to start looking?

Not only that but how exactly was he going to learn new magic? Was someone going to teach him? Will he have to learn by reading?

…

…

…He honestly adored and respected his father, but this time he couldn't help but wonder what had the Dragon King been thinking when he sent him out like this.

Regardless, he knew that standing around wasn't going to accomplish much, so he kept walking. The sun was still up, so he had daylight to spare.

' _Maybe I'll meet someone who can help me.'_

Bahamut kept walking for another hour or two when he saw the outline of buildings in the distance. Relief overcame him as he started to jog towards them.

Soon enough, he had reached a small town.

It wasn't anything remarkable; it was basically a group of houses and small buildings aligning a short stretch of the road. A few people were moving around the street, going through their lives.

Bahamut's eyes looked over the small town, trying to find anything that could help him before settling on a building with a lot of horses tied up nearby and laughter coming from inside it.

' _Must be a tavern, like the one in Kilika. Maybe I can find something there.'_

With that thought in mind, the child entered the house. Just as he thought, it was indeed a tavern. There were men sitting around tables, drinking and talking away. An old man was sitting behind the bar, pouring drinks to patrons.

Despite the friendly air in the tavern, a sliver of nervousness crept up Bahamut's spine. Crowded places were rather uncomfortable and unfamiliar for him, thanks to his treatment from the Dursleys and Acnologia's reclusive lifestyle. Even when they went to town, the father-son pair usually avoid crowded areas.

Harry took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. _'It's just a small crowd. There's nothing to worry about.'_

He walked towards the bar and climbed on one of the empty stools. He slung his bag off his shoulder and placed it on the bar to re-check its contents. Just like before, there wasn't anything there that could help him with his task; there was the fruit, clothes and gold that he was told to take, but nothing else. He didn't even have a map, so he had really no idea where he was.

"Aren't you a little too young to be at a bar?"

Bahamut raised his head in alarm in response to the voice, only to see that the barkeeper was standing in front of him with a quizzical look.

"I-uh, I…" the young mage stammered as he tried to find the correct words to reply. The barkeeper just let out a small chuckle whilst shaking his head.

"I'm just kidding. What do you want? Water? I've got some juice down here, I think."

"W-water, please."

The barkeeper chuckled again and poured the child a nice glass of water, all the while said child looked at him nervously.

The older man placed the glass in front of him and leaned on the bar, his eyes never leaving the young mage. Bahamut just muttered a quick 'thank you' and chugged down the clear liquid.

As the child finished the glass, the barkeeper spoke up again. "So…if you don't mind an old man's curiosity, what exactly a youngster such as yourself is doing all the way out here?"

Bahamut looked at the man with slight surprise. He wasn't really used to talking to strangers like this, so he tripped on some of the words.

"I-I'm looking for a way to learn magic. I was w-walking down the road when I saw th-this town."

The barkeeper raised an eyebrow – whether it was in amusement or confusion Bahamut couldn't tell – at the response.

"Magic, huh? Odd reason for a kid as young as yourself. Why are you traveling alone? Where are your parents?"

A pained look appeared on Bahamut's face. He didn't really know how to respond. How was he supposed to say that his father dropped him off and left him alone?

The barkeeper must have noticed it because his expression softened. "Oh…orphan, huh? Sorry I asked."

The young mage blinked in confusion. _'That's…not what I was thinking.'_ Although it was technically true; from what the Dursleys had told (read: yelled) him, his birth parents died in that car crash.

"I don't think you'll have any luck here, though. This is a very small town and not a lot of people, much less mages, stay here long."

Bahamut slumped in disappointment. Then again, he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up of finding anything this soon.

"I'll tell you what though. There's a supply cart leaving tomorrow for Crocus. I know one of the workers, so if you go to him and tell him I sent you, he'll let you ride along."

The green-eyed child perked up at that information, quickly identifying the name with one that occasionally popped up in his books.

"Crocus…that's the capital city, right?"

"Sure is. I don't know much about magic, but I reckon that if that's what you're looking for, then the capital's a good place to start as any."

Bahamut smiled in relief. He finally had a place to start looking! But then he replayed what the barkeeper told him and something stood out.

"Y-you said that the cart leaves tomorrow, right?"

The older man nodded. "D-do you know of any place that I can s-stay in?"

"Well, I do have a couple of rooms upstairs. If it's just for one night, you can use one of them free of charge."

Something didn't sit well with Bahamut with that last statement. The older man was kind enough to give him a drink and talk to him. Even if it's just for one night, he felt like he should pay. He always paid the store owners when he went to Kilika with his father.

He reached into his bag and pulled out a couple of gold coins. "I-I can pay you. Will this help?"

The barkeeper's eyes widened in surprise before reaching out and grabbing one of the coins. He looked at it closely and bit down on it. After a couple of seconds, he nodded.

Bahamut was glad that just one coin was enough but was struck by surprise when the barkeeper handed back the coin.

"Keep it. I told you, if it's for one night, you can sleep for free."

Bahamut looked confused. "But-but I don't want to –"

The barkeeper cut him off with a wave of his hand. "I may be a little down on money, but I wouldn't feel right if I took money – much less that gold – from a little kid like you."

Bahamut tried to offer him the coin again, but a hard look from the barkeeper silenced his protests.

For the remainder of the day, the young mage wandered about the town. True to what the barkeeper said, there weren't that many people living there. A majority were old men and women and a few other travelers, people who didn't really think that could help him.

A few hours passed and the sun had begun to set. Bahamut was passing by a store when he saw three children on the street, playing with a red ball, laughing and running all the way.

A small pang of longing and envy struck Bahamut as he watched the children run into the distance. He never managed to play with children his age, thanks to either Dudley's gang or Petunia's false rumors scaring them off. Acnologia did provide a somewhat comforting and secure presence (at least when he wasn't smashing him to the ground) but…it wasn't the same.

Not even close.

He slowly raised his arm towards the laughing children, as though he was trying to call them, but he stopped himself. That wasn't him anymore. He had a mission now.

Besides, he had nearly shown desperation, and showing desperation…was showing weakness.

 _Never show weakness._

 **-OBW-**

Morning had come, and Bahamut was sitting in the horse-drawn cart beside the driver – a thin looking man with a straw hat that covered his eyes – holding his bag, which now held a few more additions. The barkeeper was nice enough to give him some more food and water, along with a map of the land, so at least he knew where to head should he decide to leave the capital.

In addition, the barkeeper told him about the local currency – Jewels – and how he should trade those coins for that currency. This came to the young mage as a surprise, since back in Kilika Town no shopkeeper had said a word when Acnologia had paid them with the gold.

"You ready kid?" The driver asked in a raspy voice. Bahamut nodded.

With that, the driver cracked the reins with a shout, and they were off.

The journey was…alright from Bahamut's view. While he was used to his father's much faster flying, this was way better than walking. The fact that the flowing view of the open road was nice didn't hurt either. The landscape stayed within the realm of the forest and grove, touched by the occasional meadow, but it was rather peaceful and very curious.

A different way of viewing the world, at a slower, more breathtaking pace.

Much better than seeing snow all the time at least.

The driver stayed quiet throughout the whole trip, keeping one hand firmly on the horses reins while the other in his lap occasionally twitching. He barely shot a glance towards his young passenger, and to Bahamut it was fine.

He couldn't really think of anything to say anyways.

Some time later, the road passed through a large mountain range and went up a hill. For the first time since they left, the driver spoke up.

"Well, we're nearly there kid" the driver muttered.

Bahamut looked over to the side and gasped in awe. At the base of the hill, surrounded by the mountains, lay a huge walled city, with an enormous castle at its center.

The driver saw Bahamut's awestruck expression and let out a chuckle.

"Never seen the capital before have you? Well, just you wait until we get inside."

Bahamut just nodded, too awestruck to reply. He had never seen a city this size, not even when he was in England. The Dursleys never took him anywhere, and just left him in the house to clean when they had to go.

The cart made its way down the hill and eventually reached a set of open iron gates, which were flanked by armed guards.

"Halt! State your purpose for entering the capital!" one of them called out.

"I'm here to buy some supplies for my village and" the driver gestured to Bahamut "he's with me."

The guard tilted his head and two more guards came and checked the cart. Once they did, they nodded back to the first guard.

"Very well. Open the gates!"

At the sound of the command, the huge iron doors opened with a loud, metallic groan as the cart slowly started to enter the city. As they entered, the inside of the city became clearer to them and the view Bahamut gasp in wonder once more.

The city was bright and vibrant, with more people than the young mage had ever seen in his -admittedly short- life. Stone buildings with colorful signs flanked the streets, people of all sizes and ages moved around chatting happily with one another, carts like theirs (he even thought he saw a car!) rolling down the paved streets and all sorts of various sounds and smells filled the air.

The most eye-catching feature of all though were the flowers. Bright and radiant flowers of all kinds aligned the roads, dying them in a kaleidoscopic plethora of colors.

Bahamut kept staring in awe at the passing streets as the caravan headed further into the city. A few minutes later though, they stopped at a market square filled with stalls.

The driver let go of the reins and turned to the young mage. "Well, we're stopping here kid. I'll stick around until the end of the day to fill up on supplies, so if you want to come back, you know where to find me."

"T-thanks. I'll remember that."

Bahamut then hopped off the cart with his bag and began wandering the square. The sights and sounds entranced him, from the wares on the stalls to (once again) the multitude of flowers on the streets, but the thought of his mission still lingered in his mind.

But once again he ran into the same problem: where was he supposed to look?

He kept wandering the streets, eyes and ears open for anything useful. The sun had reached its afternoon position by now and Bahamut was getting slightly worried. He had barely explored a small section of the city and he was no closer to his goal than before. That, and he needed to find a place to stay and a way to get money.

The young mage had entered a small street when he saw something that piqued his interest: a store with an open book, with flames hovering above it on the sign. A bookstore.

His eyes slightly widened with excitement as he approached the store. Maybe he could find something there.

He pushed the door open and was greeted by a bell ringing and the sight shelves upon shelves of books, all seemingly glowing in the afternoon sun.

Bahamut walked by the shelves as his emerald-green eyes read the titles on the spines, searching for anything connected to magic. He passed by a few shelves when an old, creaky voice spoke up.

"If you're gonna buy something, then do it now. Otherwise, get out!"

Bahamut quickly turned in the voice's direction and came to face to face with an old man who he swore wasn't there before. He had shoulder-length white hair with a bit of crimson on the scalp, his forehead and cheeks were wrinkled and his eyes seemed to look straight through him. He wore a dark-brown tunic with strange red marking on the arms.

The young mage was so caught off-guard – only his father had managed to surprise him like that! – that he couldn't form words to say. The old man narrowed his eyes at the lack of response.

"Well? Speak up boy! I haven't got all day!"

That snapped Bahamut out of his stupor. "I-I w-was just looking…"

"Looking eh? For what? Youngsters like you don't read much these days."

"I'm…I-I'm looking for books on magic."

The old man raised an eyebrow. "Magic, huh? What would a brat like you want with magic? Do you know even anything about it? It isn't a toy for little kids!"

That last comment made Bahamut frown. He had gained a lot of knowledge about magic during his short time with Acnologia, and that statement felt like an insult – both to him and his father.

No one insulted his father.

"Of course I know things about magic! My father taught me a lot about it!"

"Your father, eh? He's a mage then?"

"He's the strongest mage there is!"

The old man then stared into Bahamut's eyes, while Bahamut himself stared back with no hesitation. A few tense seconds passed with no signs of either side backing down. Finally, the old man asked Bahamut a question.

"Why do you want to learn magic?"

Bahamut blinked in surprise at the question, but he managed to formulate a response.

"I want to be strong. Strong like my father."

The old man let out a snort. "You want to 'be strong?' What else? What will you do with your magic?"

Now that question caught Bahamut off guard. What did he mean by that? Didn't he just say that he wanted magic to be strong?

The old man kept looking at him before letting out a tired huff.

"Let's say you had magic brat…who would you use it on?"

"I…I would use it on anyone who tries to hurt me."

"Anyone who tries to hurt you? Even if they just call you names? Even if they're weaker than you? Or different than you?"

The questions that came from the old man's lips kept confusing Bahamut, but when he finished asking something clicked in his mind. Those descriptions sounded a lot like what Dudley did to him. The thought of his bullying cousin caused him to frown.

"I-I won't be a bully…I won't use my magic to hurt people for no reason…but if someone really does hurt try to hurt me…I won't back down."

"Why?"

"If I back down…if I let them hurt me…it means that I'm weak…people have tried to hurt me for a long time. I can't show weakness anymore."

 _Never show weakness._

The staring contest resumed, but this time the old man's eyes seemed to shift back and forth, as thought he was looking for a smudge of dirt on Bahamut's face. He then looked down at his feet and back up.

"You got somewhere to stay? Do you even have any money?"

Bahamut widened his eyes when he realized he had no place to stay. He saw a few inns on the way, but he didn't really pay attention to them. He had money, but he didn't really know how long it would last. Besides, he needed to convert into…what was it? Jewels?

Yes. That too.

The old man saw the alarm on the young mage's face and sighed. He then looked around in the bookstore before returning his gaze to Bahamut.

"There's a spare room upstairs. If you want, you can work here. In return, I'll pay you and then you can read whatever you want."

Bahamut was startled by the offer. Finding a place to live in so soon? "O-okay, but why? Why are you offering this to me?"

The old man hummed in thought. "There's…something about you. Something I haven't seen in a while. I can tell you've got talent. It would be a shame if it was wasted."

The old man then made a series of coughs. "Besides, an old man like me needs help moving all those books."

' _That's…weird'_ he thought. But a room near a bookstore sounded too good to be true. "Where is the room?"

The old man turned and motioned the child to follow him. He did so and he was led to a small flight of stairs.

"You go up those stairs, you'll find a small hallway with two rooms. The farthest one is yours."

The young mage nodded and went up the stairs. True enough, there were two rooms. He went and opened the door to the farthest room.

The room was simple, with a small bed, a desk and a lamp. There was only one window with a view to the street. All in all, it didn't seem too terrible.

Bahamut went over to the bed and sat on the mattress.

' _Well, I don't have to live on the streets now. That's a good thing. But what now? Do I go around the city and ask for help? Do I find a book that can help me?'_

He put a hand to his forehead in irritation and rubbed it. Why couldn't his father just give him a book from wherever he got those other books? Or at least taught him more?

He was broken from his ruminations by a knock on the door. He lifted his head and saw it was the old man. In one hand he held a plate with some bread and fruit and in the other, he held a small book.

"These are for you. Think of these as your welcoming gifts. You're gonna have to buy food elsewhere if you want anything other than just bread though."

Bahamut nodded. The old man placed the two items on the floor. He got up and made to leave, but stopped short. "What's your name, brat?"

"Bahamut."

The old man raised his eyebrow (again) but didn't comment on it. "The name's Gaelich. You best get some sleep. We start work tomorrow."

With those words, he shut the door.

Bahamut shook his head at the old man's weirdness and went over to grab the bread and the book. He stuffed the bread in his mouth and looked at the book's cover. As his eyes scanned the title, his eyes widened in excitement and his hand gripped the sides tightly. After he swallowed the bread he read aloud the title, making sure not to misspell it.

" _Plasma Magic."_

* * *

 **Ta-da! So now we know what Bahamut's first Magic will be! What will happen to him during his stay in the capital?**

 **On that note, I have come before you, my dear readers, to ask for your help.**

 **I know the important plot points of my story. The trouble is, I need help in filling in between those points with a bit more story. In short, I am having trouble writing this story and I would like to ask for your help.**

 **PM me suggestions - or leave in the reviews section - on what should I do and I will go over them. I may listen to them, I may not, but I can assure you that every piece of advice helps me, especially in these troubled times where my free time is limited. Advice on how to write my story better - not just what to put in it - would be immensely helpful as well.**

 **I will finish this story - that I can promise you - but if any of you have ideas or experience with this sort of thing, please help me.**

 **Read and Review!**


	9. Chapter 8 - Crocus

**Good Evening Friends!**

 **I told you that this story wasn't done and I have fulfilled my promise. I made a nice long chapter for all of you, so brace yourselves!**

 **I wish to thank Arawn D. Draven and my beta SimmerOnIce, for helping me with this story. Thank you so much guys!**

 **I hope you all enjoy and constructive criticism is welcome!**

 **I do not own Harry Potter or Fairy Tail. All right go to their respective** **creators.** **If I did, I would make Acnologia a much more complex character...**

* * *

 **Chapter** **8 - Crocus**

Life in the capital city, as Bahamut found out rather quickly, was far different than anything he had ever experienced before. There was never a moment, even when he was inside his room, that he felt the relative isolation like on Mt. Zonia. People were always milling and chattering about, hundreds of them in groups all over the place, no matter where or when – even at night!

The only thing preventing him from going out and exploring the city however, was the fact that he had little money. To try and remedy this, he spent a lot of time in the bookstore helping the old shopkeeper Gaelich with various menial tasks, like sorting books or cleaning shelves. The shop did have a daily influx of customers, but it looked like dripping water in comparison to the number of people out in the street. The pay he received, as expected from such a simple job, the number of customers _and_ the fact that he was boarding there, was miniscule. Nevertheless, the young mage saved every last jewel he was given and did as he was told.

Currently, Bahamut was sitting on his bed, munching away on some fruit while reading a book that contained the very reason – or at least, the beginning part of it – his father had sent him out on his journey; magic. More specifically, the art of Plasma Magic.

A bonus perk for having to work in a bookshop, he didn't need to pay for the books.

Bahamut had been excited beyond words when first laid eyes on the book's title. He was finally starting to get somewhere! He opened the book and started reading, eager to learn. After two minutes however…he tilted his head in confusion.

Apparently, casting Plasma Magic required far more than simply **Reinforcing** or **Projecting**. According to the book, for the first spell alone he needed to have knowledge of plasma itself, cast the correct magic circle, maintain a good flow of Magic Power…and a lot of terms that seemed to fly over the young mage's head.

' _I can't give up because of something like this,'_ Bahamut thought as he shook his head in defiance. _'I only started reading the book! I made Father a promise and I won't go back on it!'_

He turned to the next page. _'Maybe there's more in the rest of the book…'_

One afternoon, a week later, he closed the book and went downstairs to speak with Gaelich, who was writing something down in a large record book of sorts. Hearing the pitter-patter of the young mage's footsteps, he looked up.

"Is there someplace I can practice my magic?" asked Bahamut excitedly.

The old man raised an eyebrow. "Are you done reading that book already?"

"Yes, but I only learned the first spell there."

" **Plasma Bolt**?That was fast. More importantly though, do you _understand_ how to cast it?"

Bahamut nodded and the shopkeeper let out a 'hmm' of thought. He looked down at the large book and back at Bahamut before letting his gaze linger on him for a while. The old man then sighed and rose from his chair.

He went underneath the staircase that led to Bahamut's room and dusted off a section of the floor. He then pulled at what appeared to be a black handle and the section opened up, revealing it to be a trapdoor.

The shopkeeper gestured for Bahamut to follow him, and descended into the hole.

Shaking off the slight bewilderment he felt, the boy followed him and peered down the hatch. He saw a rickety old staircase, that looked more together than the one leading up, and led to complete darkness. He tried to see what else was down there when the old man spoke from below.

"You comin' or what boy? I'm not getting any younger here!"

Not wanting to annoy the shopkeeper any longer, the young mage quickly descended. When he felt stone beneath his feet, a clapping sound rang throughout the room.

Instantly, the room became illuminated by torches that sat on the walls and Bahamut was treated to the site of a large stone basement. In the middle of the floor was a circle carved into the stone, and on that circle was a large wooden log. The shopkeeper stood near the far wall, besides a pyramid of similar logs.

"You say you understood what you read? Well, we shall see about that. Talk is cheap, but actions speak."

The old man pointed to the log in the circle. "I want you to blast that log with a **Plasma Bolt**. You fail, you go back to reading that book."

Bahamut looked at the shopkeeper with alarm. "Why?"

"Because I don't want you to fry yourself every time you try casting a spell. Now, less talk and more magic!"

Bahamut looked back at the log before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He then opened his eyes and raised his arm, all the while remembering what the book said.

Unlike the basic projection Acnologia had taught him, casting an affinity spell (at least for beginners) required the use of a magic circle. Said circle contained all the information required to "transmute" the magic into the affinity desired by the caster. In order to cast the spell, Bahamut needed to visualize the circle and let his magic power flow through it, while at the same time he had to keep the effect of the affinity in the forefront of his mind.

Bahamut channeled magic power into his open hand and imagined the circle and the effect of plasma described in the book; it was like fire, but it didn't burn. It _vaporized_.

Fire would eat its way through its victim. Plasma would explode upon touch and turn its victim to ash, scorching what survived.

The origin of fire and lightning.

As the young mage kept his magic flowing into his hand, keeping in mind the steps of the book, a bright-red magic circle appeared in front of him, slightly bigger than his head. Almost immediately, orange and red wisps drifted from the circle, merging together into a white sphere with a flaming red halo that seemed to electrify the air around it.

Bahamut squinted under the bright light the sphere gave off and his palm seemed to sizzle, but he didn't lose sight of his target and positioned the sphere in line with the log. He took a short breath, and then mentally pushed.

He knew that he did something wrong though, when the plasma ball suddenly split in two, with one half flying towards the log…

…and the other half blowing up in his face.

The resulting explosion sent Bahamut flying backwards into the wall, while the other half slammed onto the log, exploding as well. A reddish-white light illuminated the entire basement, causing Gaelich to avert his eyes.

When the brightness died down, he opened them back and saw two things:

One, Bahamut lay against the wall, smelling like charcoal with his clothes burnt. His glasses, which were already in bad condition due to not having repaired or replaced them ever since he got them back on Earth, lay cracked on the floor. The boy himself groaned in pained as he tried to move his arms, but clenched his teeth in pain from doing so.

But apart from a few singes here and there, he looked rather intact.

As for the second thing…the log has exploded into bits, leaving a charred, smoking stump.

' _I knew it'_ the old man thought as he approached Bahamut. _'Reading the theory is an entirely different thing than casting the spell. Whoever this kid's father is, he taught him the bare frameworks for spellcasting.'_

He picked up the broken glasses and looked at the boy, before turning to look at the stump.

' _The fact that he managed to at least fire part of the spell does show good progress though. Even if he has just the basics, he's off to a relatively good start.'_

The shopkeeper turned to the boy and helped him up, ignoring his cry of protest. "So? Have we learned our lesson?"

Bahamut coughed a bit. "W-what happened? I'm sure I did the spell right."

"What happened was you lost focus. You started off good, but when you tried to fire the spell, your concentration slipped. As such, it blew up in your face."

Bahamut looked up to meet the old man's eyes, albeit squinting due to his lack of glasses.

"How did you see that?"

"When you've been around magic for as long as I have, you notice these things rather quickly. You also struggled for a moment when the circle popped up."

Bahamut winced at the shopkeeper's blunt pointing out of his mistake and looked down at the floor. The old man stayed silent for a moment before speaking up again.

"I noticed something like this when I told you to rearrange some of the books upstairs. You had trouble remembering where to place some of them."

Bahamut remained silent, a grimace of frustration creeping on his face.

"You…you have trouble multitasking, don't you?"

The young mage slightly clenched his fist. It was true; he always did seem to have trouble with performing multiple tasks at once, especially when magic was involved, and such an issue could prove detrimental - even fatal – when in combat. Thanks to his father's training though, it wasn't as bad as it used to be, but it was still there. His father never commented about it, but he felt the ever-so slight tinge of disappointment behind his emotionless gaze every time he screwed up like that.

And he hated it. It was showing that he was still lacking where he shouldn't.

It was showing a…weakness.

But what Gaelich said next surprised the young mage.

"Don't feel too bad about yourself; very few manage to get it right on the first try. The fact that a good part of it managed to hit the log is a very good sign. You have everything down – you just need to iron out a few wrinkles first."

Bahamut looked up at the old man's face, and he could've sworn that, despite the blurriness of his vison, that the corner of his lips twitched upwards.

"Besides, if the Plasma Magic doesn't work for you, it doesn't mean that you can't learn other magics."

Bahamut tilted his head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Some mages – particularly Caster-Types – are naturally attuned to a certain kind of magic. Intermediate, even some beginner mages such as yourself can cast multiple spells of different types, but there will always be that one branch of magic that will work better for you than any other. That's why most mages use only one or two types of magic: it's easier for them and they can cast the spells at their fullest potential.

You just have to find yours."

The green-eyed mage kept staring at the shopkeeper. The compliment and its soft delivery – very much unlike what Acnologia would do – sent a small pulse of warmth through his body.

"Making mistakes isn't bad, it's learning from them that truly counts."

' _Father said something similar, didn't he?'_ thought Bahamut. Yes, he made a mistake, but now that he knew what it was, he could correct it, and next time he would do better.

"Well, now that you failed, you will reread that book and familiarize yourself with the feel of that magic. In the meantime, you can look through different magic books to see if there is something that you like better. After your chores of course."

Bahamut pouted in response, but the old man just let out a chuckle.

"But first, why don't we get you some new glasses?"

 **-OBW-**

True to his word, the next day the Gaelich went out with Bahamut to get him some better glasses, but hearing about contact lenses, the child asked if he could get those instead, saying that they might interfere less in training. After the old man bargained with the salesman for a bit and telling him that the child was a mage, Bahamut was given a box of reinforced lenses, designed for mages so that they are very durable and needed very little cleaning.

Getting them on the eye was a pain though, not that Bahamut would admit that to anyone.

The young mage started practicing his magic right after that, both in his father's teachings and Plasma Magic. Having managed to reconvince the old man to allow him to use the basement again (under supervision of course), he took that day's advice to heart and tried to familiarize his magic flow with that of the Plasma Magic's, which was met with…limited success.

After managing to successfully cast a plasma bolt in the basement, the shopkeeper asked how he felt and asked if he managed to learn another spell. Bahamut said that he was working on two more spells, but he gave this answer for the former question:

" _I feel fine but…I get this weird feeling every time I try to use them. They work really well, but the magic flow feels sometimes a little…bumpy, I think?"_

The old man reassured him however that he needed a just little more time and practice to get used to the feel of the magic, and for that he needed to either learn more spells or use the magic n a different way. All the while reminding him that if it didn't work out, he could try and look for other types of magic, but these all had their own issues:

First of all, while the bookstore did have a nice collection of magical tomes, it was rather small, so the options given to him were limited.

Second of all, if he did manage to find a more compatible magic, he would naturally need to practice it. But practice, especially with magic, can leave more than a few marks on its surroundings, as seen during his first attempt.

An underground basement under an old house would only hold up for so long, stone walls or no.

As such, Bahamut needed both more options for learning and a place to train.

The shopkeeper told Bahamut of this predicament, and both of them tried to think up a solution. It was then that an idea got into the young mage's head.

"Um…Crocus is the capital city, right?"

"…Yes"

"The king lives in the capital city, right?"

"Yes. The Royal Palace lies in the center of city."

"The king has guards and soldiers to protect him, and they probably know magic right?"

"While I'm not sure about the soldiers, the royal family does have mages in its employ."

"Then they need a place to train as well, right? I can find out where it is and use it."

The shopkeeper blinked in surprise at the young mage's flow of logic.

"How did you think of that?"

"I…I read about the city in a book once and since the king is important, he needs to be strong, or to have someone strong be with him."

"…One problem with your idea. How are you going to convince the king of Fiore to let you, a boy from the streets, use what is most likely his Royal Guard's personal training grounds?"

Bahamut scratched his head in response and tried to respond, but nothing came to mind. He dropped his head in frustration and tried to think of something else.

' _What do I do? If this keeps up, I won't be able to learn magic properly and I'll never see my father again! He'll…He'll…'_

A thought then sparked up inside Bahamut's head. His father was the Dragon King! The people here must know him! If he spoke to the guards, they would surely let him in.

But just as he was about to try and suggest the idea, a memory suddenly popped up in his head, from one of his first visits to Kilika with his father…

 _Bahamut was sitting on a bench in Kilika Town's small park, reading his newest book – a fairy tale – to pass the time. His father had gone off to get a few more things, and told him to stay put before giving him the book._

 _The child didn't mind at all; he was very happy. Acnologia may not be an affectionate father, but he always rewarded him with a book or two whenever they came here, provided that he behaved and followed his training._

 _The only thing that annoyed the green-eyed mage was that there were a couple of times when he had moved to grab a certain book and his father would refuse to buy it. He didn't even let him read it while in the store and wouldn't budge until Bahamut chose another book._

 _Most children would have sulked for the rest of the day, but not Bahamut. He always did what his father told him to do, and he never had any real possessions before he was adopted, so he valued what he already had more than other kids his age._

 _He was about to turn to the next page of the story when a voice spoke up from beside him._

" _That's a nice book you have there. What is it?"_

 _He looked to the source of the voice and me the eyes of a young boy who to be around his age, with messy dark-green hair, freckles and large brown eyes. He wore a striped t-shirt and green pants with sandals. A curious expression was on his face as he bent down a little to try and read the book's cover._

 _Now, Bahamut didn't answer him right away. This was the first time anyone his age spoke to him nicely, and his years of isolation (on both worlds) didn't exactly help his social skills. Acnologia wasn't really much of a conversationalist._

 _The child kept staring at the newcomer, unsure what to do, when he spoke up again._

" _Um…hello? What are you reading?"_

 _Bahamut snapped back into focus and saw that the green-haired child was staring at him._

" _Oh, h-hi. I'm reading 'The Rainbow Mist'". The green-haired kid perked up in excitement and smiled._

" _Really? I've heard of that story but I never saw it at the bookstore! Can I read with you?"_

 _Now Bahamut was taken aback at the child's excitement. Read with him? "What do you mean?"_

" _You turn the pages, and I'll just read over your shoulder" said the kid as he climbed on the bench and sat next to Bahamut, head just over the black-haired child's shoulder._

…

…

…

"… _do you want me to start at the beginning?"_

 _And so it was that anyone who passed by the park that day saw two children sitting on a bench behind a red book, occasionally sneaking peeks at one another. When they reached the end of the story, Bahamut closed the book and the other kid smiled._

" _That was a great story! Thank you for letting me read with you."_

" _Uh…you're welcome." The two lapsed into a comfortable silence, watching the people stroll by. The green-haired boy then asked:_

" _I haven't seen you before. Are you new here?"_

 _Bahamut shook his head. "No, my father and I sometimes come here to buy things."_

" _Oh. My mom and I live close by, near the woods. We don't have a dad."_

" _What happened to him?"_

" _I don't know. A few years ago, he just…left" the child replied in a sad tone._

" _I'm sorry. Then I'm like you, but I don't have a mom. It's just me and father."_

" _Did he get you the book?" Bahamut nodded. "That's cool. My mom always gets me new stuff if I'm good. She helps me a lot, even though she always seems sad."_

 _Bahamut smiled at the admiring tone the child used. "She sounds like a nice person. My father doesn't talk to me a lot. He never smiles…but he shows me a lot of cool stuff and he trains me."_

 _The brown-eyed child's eyes widened in awe. "He trains you? Is he a mage? That is awesome! Mages are so cool!"_

" _Father's better than a mage" replied Bahamut in excitement. "He's a- "_

" _BAHAMUT!"_

 _The yell made both boys turn to see the blue-haired Dragon King standing at the entrance in front of them, arms crossed and a tiny sliver of anger in his eyes._

" _We're leaving!"_

 _The young mage, surprised by his father's appearance, nonetheless jumped off the bench and began to walk towards his father. After he took a few steps though, he turned around to see the green-haired kid staring at his father in shock, intimidated by his presence. He opened his mouth to say goodbye-_

" _NOW!"_

 _Buuut his father's command took priority, so he ran to the Dragon King, who quickly took him by the arm and dragged him outside the town. Once they were at their usual arrival/departure point in the woods, Acnologia finally let go of his son's arm, who winced (ever so-slightly) at the feeling of his father's grip._

 _The older male quickly turned to look at Bahamut. "Next time we come here, you will not leave my presence. You will not speak to anyone without my permission, understood?"_

 _The young mage grew frightened at his father's angry tone. "W-why? What did I do? I just spoke to him and –"_

" _Then you should pay more heed to what you say! Your words could have brought upon us an unwanted heap of trouble!"_

" _Why didn't you tell me this before? How was I supposed to know!?" Bahamut asked in frustration, his voice rising with each word._

 _The Dragon King narrowed his eyes at his son's remark and straightened his body, his tone biting with each word that he spoke. "Watch. Your. Tone. WHELP."_

 _It was then that Bahamut knew, he screwed up. His father was never this angry. He gulped in fear and stood frozen in place, hugging the book to his chest, awaiting whatever punishment he would be dealt._

 _But it never came. The duo just stood there, eyes locked with each other's._

 _Acnologia then let out a mix of a growl and a frustrated sigh, before returning his gaze to his usual, emotionless one._

" _As you know, I am the most powerful being in this world. Long before you arrived to my mountain, I ruled the skies of this land. The beat of my wings would freeze armies in terror, my visage would paralyze the bravest of warriors, and my power was – and always_ _ **will**_ _be – unparalleled. Everyone knew my name, and would dread its very utterance."_

 _Bahamut nodded to show he was listening._

" _Consequently, the humans grew fearful and jealous of my might. They just would not accept that someone could be more powerful than any of them, so once in a while they would send someone or more to try and slay me. Naturally, they all failed."_

 _Bahamut nodded again. "Eventually, these attacks dwindled to a near halt and I secluded myself in Mt. Zonia for some peace and quiet. But the humans – the educated ones at least – still remembered me, if not by name, then by description of my dragon form."_

 _Acnologia then pointed at his son and his voice became sterner. "Should anyone find out about the fact that you are my son, the word will pass on to someone who knows of me, and they will stop at nothing to hunt us down. I can kill any number of them with ease, but_ _ **you**_ _are vulnerable."_

 _Bahamut's eyes widened in horror at that revelation. "You cannot tell anyone about our connection. Should you talk to anyone, do not tell them my name or my true nature. It will save us a lot of unnecessary headaches and prevent delays in your training. If by any chance something will come up that_ _ **will**_ _reveal my true nature, tread cautiously and_ _ **trust no one.**_

 _Am I clear?"_

 _The boy nodded, trying to control his shaking body. He would never disobey his father._

" _Good. Let this be another lesson unto you: power attracts others, and sometimes this can be very unwelcome. If it can be an asset, use it. If it proves a liability, hide your strength unless you wish to end your opponent. For power can attract enemies, and underestimating your enemy can be a person's greatest weakness._

 _Never. Show. Weakness."'_

Bahamut immediately shut his mouth and mentally hit himself for even thinking about using his father's name for such a thing. How could he forget such an important lesson!? He couldn't trust anyone here, not even the shopkeeper. There's no telling what might happen to him.

He looked up to see the old man looking at him with a quizzical expression. "It's nothing."

While Gaelich wasn't entirely convinced, he just nodded. Everyone has secrets, after all.

"Well…if the Royal Grounds are out of the question, why don't you use your free time to take a look around the city? It'll help you find your way around here and you might just find something that could help you on the way."

The young mage looked up at him with a glint of hope in his eyes. "Do you think so?"

The shopkeeper just shrugged. "It's a crazy world out there kid, and it can get even crazier when it comes to magic. Mix that with the capital, and practically anything is possible."

 **-OBW-**

The month passed and Bahamut could safely say that he had settled into a routine here in the capital. Every morning he would get up, eat something to start the day and go down stairs to help Gaelich with the shop. After lunchtime, he would go down to the basement with the shopkeeper and practice with his magic and an altered version of his father's training regimen. After the training, which didn't last for more than a couple of hours each time, he would go back to reading whatever book that was in his room (and not just the magic books) or keep helping with the shop. Once or twice a week, after his training was done and Gaelich didn't assign him any more work, he would follow the old man's suggestion and go out to explore the city.

Crocus was _huge_. Possibly the biggest city in Fiore. He only managed to explore a third of it up until now, but even the small part he lived in still amazed him every time he left the shop. True to its moniker _"The Flower Blooming Capital"_ , flowerbeds were everywhere; from the streets and roads to the rooftops and rafters. They painted the entire city in a kaleidoscopic pattern of bright colors, never seeming gloomy, even at nighttime. Shops, taverns and apartments were everywhere Bahamut went, with people flowing in the streets like a human river. He had nearly gotten lost the first time he went out, but he quickly managed to mentally plot the location of the bookshop.

The young mage had seen other bookshops of course, some of them larger than Gaelich's, but none of them sold magic tomes, or the shopkeepers just told him to leave. That was rather annoying, but there was nothing he could do about it except keep on searching.

It wasn't a total loss; rather, it was during one of those trips that he discovered something very important – the existence of Mage Guilds.

Mage Guilds were organizations made up of mages (who else?) that were scattered throughout Fiore and answered to the government. These guilds would receive job requests that guildmembers could accept and get paid in return. A lot of powerful mages came from guilds and helped to establish their respective guild's reputation and strength. Bahamut was very intrigued by the concept of these guilds, and should he have heard about them anywhere else, he might've been inclined to try and join one.

As it turned out though, the book (which was up-to-date as far as the child could tell) mentioned that no guild existed in the capital as a way of maintaining an equal business balance between the guilds, since a guild in the city with the most people would naturally receive the most requests, regardless if the mages there were powerful or not. Along with that, all the other guilds were too far away from the capital to go to on a daily basis.

' _That's a shame'_ thought Bahamut as he read the paragraph. _'It's not too bad though. I like it here and I learn magic well enough at the bookstore. But I need to find a way I can actually use my magic and not just practice.'_

Currently Bahamut was jogging near the gate where he first entered the city. If he was outside, he might as well try and make the most of every time, after all. The gateway was flooded with caravans and merchants seeking to sell their produce in and out of the city. The guards were directing the traffic flow and talking to the merchants animatedly as they inquired them about their goods, their intentions, etc. The ones that passed the gates entered a large roundabout that led to the various districts and neighborhoods.

The young mage passed by said roundabout when he noticed something that he hadn't seen before. On one of the buildings, a tavern to be precise, was a billboard with several pages stuck to it. What made it unusual though was that some tough-looking men walked up to it and eyed one of the papers, before tearing it from the wall. His eyes followed them as they went to one of the stalls and talked with the merchant there. After a few minutes of discussion, which Bahamut was unable to hear due to the sound of the masses, the merchant and one of the men shook hands and parted ways.

His curiosity piqued, the child went over to the billboard and saw what was written on a good portion of the pages:

 _Caravan Guard/s Needed!_

 _Will Pay Well!_

A grin slowly crept up on Bahamut's face. Now this looked like an interesting prospect…

 **-OBW-**

 _ **Potter Mansion, 1989**_

 _ **Nighttime**_

A cloud of depression had settled over the grand Potter Estate. The laughter and joy that once filled its halls has been noticeably subdued over the past couple of months. What took its place was an aura of sadness and emptiness, screaming and accusing its denizens of the most horrible thing that they have ever done.

In the master bedroom, Lily Potter was asleep, her husband missing from her side; a common occurrence these past couple of months. Ever since the incident that fateful Christmas Eve, James Potter had used his influence and connection with the head of the DMLE, Amelia Bones, to discreetly conduct a country-wide search for Harry, with the help of Dumbledore and Sirius. Sirius was naturally distraught when he had heard the news, and was doing his best to search every nook and cranny in Britain for his godson Harry. Thanks to Dumbledore's political prowess and Amelia's competence, the entire search was kept under close wraps, but they knew they couldn't hide this forever. _When_ , not if, the wizarding public would get wind of what had happened, it would cause mass panic and concern due to Harry's status.

Lily was tossing and turning in her sleep, a frown crossing her beautiful features and mutterings escaping from her lips, as a horrible scene played out in her mind…

" _Stand aside, foolish girl" a black-robed man commanded with a snake-like voice._

" _NO! NOT HARRY! TAKE MY LIFE, NOT HIS!"_

" _I will not waste my power on you." Then he waved his wand and ropes sprung from the tip, binding the woman and pinning her to the ground. She tried to move, to do anything to try and stall him, but all she could do was watch as the foul creature approached the crib that held her baby._

" _Now no one shall stop me! AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

 _A sickly green light illuminated the room, drowning out the screams of a desperate mother._

"HARRY!"

Lily leaped up from the bed wide-eyed as she searched for her wand, only to stop when she registered the surroundings. She wasn't in Godric's Hollow, she was in the manor. She was alive, James was alive and Harry…Harry was…

 _ **(Schindler's List – Main Theme)**_

Her heart was filled with sadness as the harsh truth reared its ugly head. Harry, her baby boy, was missing and she had no idea where he is. She hoped every night she would wake up and find out that these past 6 years concerning him was a bad dream, that her husband and children were all living together under one roof in happiness, as they should've been. But the nightmares, which were appearing in constant frequency ever since that night, awoke her to the harsh reality of the world.

She grabbed her wand from the nightstand and waved it, whispering a spell. A large book appeared out of thin air and landed on the bed. She reached out and opened it to a picture that caused tears to drop from her eyes, all the while a sad smile adorned her face. It was the picture of her and James, holding and kissing an infant Harry, who was waving at the camera with an innocent smile on his face.

Lily kept tracing her finger lovingly on her son's image, desperately trying to recall the warmth and joy she had felt while holding him, but that too has eluded her after so many years. She tried to recall his laugh, his giggles, his expression of delight when he climbed on his toy broom for the first time, but those became harder and to remember as the days passed by.

' _I have failed as a mother. How could I abandon my own son? Why didn't I stand my ground when Dumbledore and James talked to me about this?'_

There was no excuse for what she did. Not _one, single, thing_. She was even ashamed of herself for trying to even think of one. A mother never abandons her child, no matter what happens or who gets in the way. And she failed at that.

Both as a mother and a person.

' _What would_ _ **my**_ _mother think, rest her soul? She took care of me, supported me and loved me even after she found out I was a witch. She never abandoned me, she never even abandoned Petunia for Merlin's sake!'_

Her eyes narrowed in anger in thought of her hateful sister. Petunia was always jealous of her for being a witch. She tried so hard to reconnect with her, but she was always rebuffed with screams and glares. She would've kept on trying to communicate with her if it wasn't for the war.

A dark thought crept into her head and something clicked. If Petunia hated magic and Dumbledore gave Harry to her then…

She quickly banished that thought from her head. Her sister was spiteful, true, but she would never go to such lengths, no matter how much she hated her…right?

Not that Harry should've ever been left with her in the first place, but even so!

She was broken from her thoughts when she heard the bedroom door open. She looked up and saw her husband entering the room. He took off his auror robes and cast a floating candle to shed some light. The man sat down by her side, giving her a strong hug.

"Any luck?" she asked in a soft tone.

James shook his head. "No, but I might have a few ideas. If not those, then I'll start searching outside the country."

She gave him a grateful smile, albeit one filled with sadness. "Please, whatever you do don't give up."

"I would never dream of it."

She looked back down at the photo and held her husband's hand. "Are the twins asleep?"

"Yes, I checked up on them before I came here. Didn't look like they had any nightmares, so there's that."

A phantom knife twisted Lily's already broken heart. They tried hiding the terrible news from Ivy and William, hoping that by the time Harry's Hogwarts term would start, he would be found and all would be right again. Unfortunately, William was a smart child and recalled the patronus that flew in that evening, and confronted them in front of Ivy a week or so later. The parents caved in and told them what had happened, which left the twins in shock and disbelief. It morphed into worry as time passed, but a feeling of sadness and a tension had sprung up between them and the children. William was spending more time in the library, while Ivy would sometimes sit in her room and look out the window. The fact that James was absent most of these days and she was trying to find out more memories of Harry and assisting him didn't exactly help matters either.

Lily leaned onto James and started sobbing. "Our family is falling apart James! We need to do something!"

James hugged her tightly, rubbing her back with his hand. "I swear to you Lily-flower, I won't let our family fall apart. We'll find Harry and everything will be alright again. We'll finally be a family, and we will never abandon him."

Lily just kept sobbing, holding onto him for dear life.

 **-OBW-**

In another room, Ivy Potter was lying in her bed staring out the window, as the full moon illuminated her room with an eerie glow. All the while her thoughts were turbulent. Luckily, she fooled her father into thinking she was asleep.

These turbulent thoughts were all gathered around her older brother Harry (who else?). She had been so looking forward to meet him all this time, and who could blame her? Between the fictional and sometimes outlandish descriptions those books in Diagon Alley gave and her parent's stories and memories, she couldn't wait for the day that she would meet her older brother for the first time.

Except now, that might never happen, no matter how much she would want to deny it.

When her parents came home after that message from Professor Dumbledore, they looked like they had seen something horrible. She and her twin tried to ask them if something was wrong, but after sharing a glance with dad, her mum just smiled and said everything was fine. She wasn't very convinced, and neither had been William, but she was willing to give her parents the benefit of the doubt.

Even that however was broken a week or so later when William asked them if the reason why dad had barely come home these past days had something to do with Harry. He mentioned the silver bird that flew through the window and asked them to tell him the truth.

She couldn't believe what her parents said. Harry was gone? It couldn't be! They said he was kept somewhere safe! They promised they would meet him when he went to Hogwarts! Even worse, when William kept asking them where Harry was staying, they told him that Harry was placed with _Petunia_ , her magic-hating aunt! To top it all off, mom tried to defend herself by saying that _Professor Dumbledore_ placed Harry there!

She might be six years old, even she recognized that such a decision was stupid.

The young Potter didn't even know what was going on anymore. Her parents were barely in the house, leaving her and William in the care of the family house-elves, and whenever she saw her mom, she would always be looking at some toy or a picture and would then burst into tears.

She gripped her blanket tightly as she came to a decision. She would find a way to bring Harry back. The adults didn't seem like they were making any progress, and William was constantly in the family library reading up on magic. She might be more of a prankster than her twin, but her father always said that they were both as smart as their mother. She would help William find Harry, even if they had to do it without their parents' help.

 **-OBW-**

 _A kingdom to the north, X775_

The forest around him was burning. Screams and wails of despair filled the air. Bolts of magic flew above the burning houses and hit him, only to feel like fly touches.

Pitiful. They never manage to put up a good fight. But against him, who could?

He looked down to see that people were fleeing the destroyed town, all heading towards whatever part of the forest that didn't catch on fire yet. The ones who stayed were the local mages, who were currently pulling every spell in their arsenal to try and slay him, or to at least buy the others time.

One of the mages, who by human standards seemed pretty strong, raised his hand and screamed **"Thunderclap Skywolf!"**

A bolt of lightning struck the earth before him and formed into the shape of a giant wolf with blue fur, one as big as his head and neck, with gnarling teeth and a maw that spewed lightning and breathed thunder. Were they fighting another mage, they would have won with that spell.

Unfortunately for them, he needed to remind them that the _Black Dragon of Apocalypse_ was no mere mage.

The wolf snarled and leapt at him with fangs bared, eager to tear out his flesh, but Acnologia grabbed the wolf by its snout and threw it across the forest. It got up and snarled at him once more, before dashing towards him in an instant and trying to bite him again. He turned to the side, only for the creature to discharge a lightning shockwave that nearly messed with his vision.

He growled angrily to himself as the wolf turned towards him, a glint of smugness in its eyes. _'How dare these impudent insects. Time to end this.'_

With a beat of his mighty wings, Acnologia took to the sky. He flew above the smoke plumes and looked down with his enhanced vision to see the humans having hopeful looks on their faces, and the wolf's summoner looking smug. _'Oh, how do I enjoy watching their expressions morph into despair…'_ he thought as he opened his maw and a bright light illuminated the twilight sky.

'… _when they realize there is no one in this world that can defeat ME!'_

He fired his **Roar** onto the ground, where it exploded into a deathly blue light that devoured the town whole and some of the surrounding forest. The shockwave blew out the fires and flattened every tree within the area of a couple of leagues. After the explosion dissipated, all that was left was an enormous smoking crater, with not even a body remaining.

The Dragon King mentally smirked to himself and flew off, satisfied with his work.

A while later, he arrived to the familiar sight of the snow-covered Mt. Zonia. He descended onto his sleeping spot on the peak and transformed into his human form. He stretched a bit, a sadistic grin on his face as he imagined the despair on those pathetic mages faces. That was a nice end to the day.

He then leapt down the slope until he reached the mountainside cave, only to stop himself when he landed at the entrance and realized what he was doing.

' _Right. The whelp isn't here.'_

The reason why Acnologia was slightly frustrated (and thus prompted him to go and destroy the town) was the fact that ever since his son Bahamut left, he found himself doing things that he would usually do while he was here, like waiting at the bottom of the mountain. At first, he thought it to be nothing more than a reflex, but after it happened for the fifth time, he realized something:

He had grown used to the boy's presence.

He scoffed at first for even thinking of that notion. Him, _the Dragon King_ , getting used to the presence of a mere human, even if said human was his adoptive son? Impossible. It was just a reflex, something that would wear off in a week or two.

But now…as he looked inside the cave, he could feel it devoid of his son's presence. The meat in the side of the wall had been thrown out, and there was no firepit in the cave. Even the books near his fur blanket were starting to gather dust.

He growled in frustration. This was both stupid and beneath him. Maybe another flight would do the trick. He was Acnologia, he needed _no one_.

Just as he was about to leave though, something caught his sharp eye, standing near the pile of books.

It was the wooden carving Bahamut had given to him when he dropped him off on that road, his supposed birthday present. He placed it there with the whelp's other possessions, but other than that he had forgotten about it.

Acnologia found himself unconsciously moving towards the carving and picking it up, looking at it from all over. Like before, it was the image of a dragon curled around a small human, done in very basic detail. He looked to his hand and was surprised (on the inside of course) that he was holding the carving gently, as though not to break it. He looked back at the carving and stared at it, and the barest flicker of a flash of… _something_ sparked in him, before disappearing like it was never there.

The corners of his lips twitched very slightly upwards as he shook his head. "Hn. Damn whelp."

He placed the carving on the floor and was about to turn around when suddenly, he sensed a very familiar magic right behind him. The blue-haired mage turned around sharply and his eyes narrowed at the sight of someone he never hoped to see, who was standing on the cave's entrance, looking at the walls like he hadn't a care in the world.

He tensed his body and spoke in a low tone. "What do you want…

… _Black Wizard_?"

 **-OBW-**

 _Boy-Who-Lived Missing?_

 _Rita Skeeter_

 _Fellow witches and wizards, the other day, this reporter was in her office when she came across a startling piece of information: Lord James Potter was talking to Amelia Bones of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (DMLE) about the status of his missing son, Harry Potter the Boy-Who-Lived!_

 _As we all know, the infant Harry Potter defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named on that fateful night on October 31_ _st_ _, 1981, freeing all of the Wizarding World from those dark times. He was supposedly taken away by Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and Headmaster of Hogwarts for his safety against followers of You-Know-Who and for training._

 _Despite numerous inquiries, the location of our savior was kept secret by both the Potters and Dumbledore. It was easy to assume so for security reasons, but now that he is missing, this reporter cannot help but ask if every effort was made to ensure the safety of young Harry Potter, as he went missing despite said "protections"._

 _After careful investigation, it came as a shock to this reporter that the Boy-Who-Lived was placed with Muggles! Yes, that's right, Albus Dumbledore left young Harry Potter with Muggles! This reporter and naturally the wizarding public cannot explain how one of the most prominent heirs of Magical Britain was placed with Muggles, most likely ignorant of his heritage and without the childhood he deserved._

 _But an even bigger shock came to this reporter when she learnt that the Potter heir went missing after the Muggles' house was set aflame! From conversations between Lord Potter and his friends, as well as inquiring the locals, this reporter deduced that on Christmas Eve, the house was suddenly set aflame with no explanation, and the Boy-Who-Lived mysteriously vanished. No magic was reported to be used at the scene. This raises distressing concerns whether Albus Dumbledore is fit to protect not only the Boy-Who-Lived, but our children learning in Hogwarts._

 _This reporter, along with other upstanding members of our society, will try and figure out the mystery of what happened to the Boy-Who-Lived._

 _More on Harry Potter, see pg. 3._

 _More on The Potters, see pg. 5._

 _More on Albus Dumbledore, see pg. 9._

* * *

 **Multiple twists in this chapter! What do you all think?**

 **Anyone who notices the God of War reference in this chapter will get a cookie! (Honestly, the game fits with my story so well that I'm trying to avoid plagiarism). There was also one other character here that was referenced, if only by looks. Guess who?**

 **I did receive a comment that Plasma Magic is a little too 'generic', but rest assured I put thought into this decision. Bahamut learning a forbidden magic or even an advanced magic right off the bat seems a little off for me, and I don't want to make him learn a lot of magic types because of...well, it says so in the chapter.**

 **I should point out that the OMAKE CHALLENGE I posted before is still active. No one has sent me anything. If you guys can think of something, be sure to PM me!**

 **Read and Review!**


	10. Chapter 9 - Time Brings Changes

**Hi there, guys and gals! I'm here with a brand new chapter! In case you felt like the previous chapter was a bit lacking, you'll be surprised by this one.**

 **READ THE AN AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PAGE THIS IS IMPORTANT!**

 **Hope you all enjoy and constructive criticism is welcome!**

* * *

 **Unfortunately, I do not own Harry Potter or Fairy Tail...yet.**

* * *

 **Chapter 9 - Time Brings Changes**

On a road to Crocus,

Nighttime,

April 3rd, X777

Kalvin Durham was a merchant. Not an overly famous one, but he was nevertheless a relatively well known one within the Merchant's Guild. He had left his home a long time ago to buy his lacrima-powered caravan and start his business of selling fruits and vegetables. Certainly not something amazing, in comparison to some of the rare jewels and exotic spices a few of the other merchants sold, but he prided himself on the quality of his produce and the fact that his caravan was never raided during any of his journeys.

It was an unfortunate fact of life that merchant caravans were prime targets for bandits, raiders and other rogues. A lone target on the road was much easier to rob than a shop in the city after all. As such, the life of a merchant such as himself was constantly at risk during his travels, especially on empty roads like this one. Since the town he had visited was relatively isolated, unlike Magnolia or Clover, there wasn't another caravan within leagues.

To put it simply, it was like placing a giant glowing sign on his back that said: 'HERE I AM! PLEASE ROB ME!'

'Well, I hope then he is as good as they say he is' thought Kalvin, his eyes drifting to the only other passenger in the caravan.

To be honest, Kalvin had been robbed before. Numerous times in fact. But because none of them were ever successful he had developed his reputation. The reason for that was Kalvin's choice in guards. It was custom for merchants – even mandatory when long travels were involved – to hire bodyguards to protect their caravans. These bodyguards would either be Mages from the local Mage Guilds, or mercenaries in cases such as the capital. They would accompany them to their destination and back, and in turn, get paid depending on the length of the journey and/or the type of goods transported. Kalvin himself has never chosen a bodyguard that failed him, although this one was a special case.

He needed to go to a small town in the west of the kingdom and set up shop there for a week, and after that, he would return to the capital for a refilling. The problem he initially encountered, however, was that most of the mercenaries in the capital had already been taken. He asked some of his colleagues for help, but all of them had their own routes to follow. He had nearly resigned to the fact that he was going to have to travel alone when one of the merchants told him about his now-hired bodyguard and said that he might be available.

To give himself credit, Kalvin was only slightly surprised when he saw that said bodyguard was in fact, a child.

Said child was sitting near the front of the cart, a black cloak draped over his shoulders and a hood covering his face. He was reading a book and seemed utterly engrossed in it and was munching on one of his apples.

The merchant had his doubts at first, the one who recommended him said that he was perfect for jobs like these: round-trip, short and good pay. He never failed a job before, and when Kalvin asked the other merchants, the ones who did know something had nothing but good things to say.

'Well, doesn't look like they've been lying. He doesn't talk much though. A kid his age would be jumping up and down the walls and asking all sorts of questions.'

Kalvin turned his eyes back to the road in front of him. 'If all goes well, we should reach Crocus by noon. Guess I didn't have to hire-'

An arrow landing in front of the cart made him snap out of his thoughts and pull the brakes. The slight shuffling behind him meant that his bodyguard heard the arrow too.

'Me and my big mouth.' He thought as large forms crawled out of the nearby bushes and encircled the caravan. All of them were human, big, and nasty with menacing weapons. One of the men in the front – presumably the leader and flanked by two archers - took a step forward and spoke up.

"Toll area. Now pay up and we won't have to get violent … much." The other men snickered at his remark and fiddled with their weapons.

Kalvin inwardly shivered but kept a calm appearance. Panicking will only make things worse. "I'm sorry, but I have nothing to pay you with."

The leader just raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? Well, that fine looking cart of yours says otherwise." He sniffed the air and licked his lips. "Smells good too, and lucky us – we were all just gettin' hungry now, weren't we boys?"

The other raiders nodded their heads in agreement and the leader wagged his finger at the cart. "It'd be a shame to see such fine-smellin' goods go to waste like that. You!" he gestured to a bandit holding a large axe. "Take a look and see what we have there. Oh, and don't try to run, or the next arrow will find itself in your skull."

The huge bandit nodded with a frightening grin and walked over to the cart. He opened the back door and peeked inside.

-OBW-

The bandit leader fingered his mace in anticipation as his minion/colleague took a look inside the caravan, with the greedy stares of the others focused on him. He had been watching the caravan ever since it arrived at the town. After "inquiring" the local townsfolk about where it came from, he knew that they struck gold. A loaded caravan straight from the capital? In these parts, it was worth a king's ransom! So he and his men followed the caravan until they reached a good point on the road. Nobody will hear any of the unfortunate sod's cries for help…if he even gave him the chance.

"Hey boss! There's all kinds of food here! We hit the jackpot!" The men all let out a cheer as he tried to squeeze himself inside for a better look, but stopped for a second. "Hey, who are-"

The bandit was cut off when a bright red bolt plowed through his head and landed outside, scattering blood and brain matter all over the back of the caravan. The man's now-headless body teetered a bit before falling backwards, letting the rest of his blood flow onto the road. Crouching behind him was what appeared to be a black-cloaked man – a rather short one at that – with red sparks flashing around him. On the back of the cloak was a blue symbol: a dragon with its wings spread open and a coiling tail. (1)

The leader barely had time to react to the demise of one of his brethren when the man spun around and started firing red-hot magic bolts at the bandits, hitting them with precision. The few that weren't blown back and set alight immediately tried to surround and rush him, hoping to overwhelm him with brute force and surprise. Unfortunately for them, the cloaked man just fired more red bolts that pierced their chests, constantly moving. One of his men, who was armed with a clawed gauntlet, attacked him from behind, but the man pivoted around and threw a glowing punch right into his face, shattering his skull and blowing him back to the forest.

The leader just gaped in horror at the sight of nearly all of his men lying dead all over the road, most of their bodies singed and smoking.

'A mage!? Why didn't they tell me about him? Didn't those fools see him back at the town!?' The bandit leader clenched his teeth in fury as he glared at the mage for what he had done. 'Well, no matter. It just means I have fewer mouths to feed! I followed this piece of wooden crap on wheels all this way and I am NOT leaving empty-handed!'

A thump drew his attention, and he turned to the caravan to see that the merchant had gone inside and locked himself in. The leader let out an angry breath through his nostrils as he returned to glare at the mage, while his remaining two useless minions cowered at his sides. Time to try a new approach. He let a calm smirk appear on his face and spoke to the mage.

"Interesting. I haven't seen power like yours in a while. I commend you for taking down my men." Unfortunately for you, I am not so easy to beat." The leader raised his mace and an orange magic circle encircled its head. "Let's see how you handle this!"

He swung the mace down. "Earth Magic: Terra Trident!"

The mace made contact with the ground and three rows of earthen spikes jutted out of the ground and towards the mage, but he leaped sideways and allowed the attack to sail past him. The mage tilted his hooded head in curiosity, but the leader just smirked and gestured to his remaining two men to load and fire their arrows. He swung his mace upwards and the spike broke up from the ground and floated in the air.

"It's been fun playing with you, but I will have my prize." He twirled his mace and the spikes all pointed themselves at the mage while spinning like drills. "Any last words?"

The mage, who hadn't made a sound the whole time, turned his head to look at the leader before scoffing.

"Weak."

The leader widened his eyes at the remark before tightening his grip on the mace in anger. "Don't get cocky! Terra Drillstorm!"

The spinning spikes and his minions' arrows all flew towards the mage, intent on skewering him like cheese. But instead, the mage cocked back his fist and enveloped it in an aura of that red magic…and swung.

"Ion Shockwave"

A blinding wave of magic heated up the air and flew towards him, shattering every spike it touched with a hail of red lightning. The leader and his remaining men tried to run, but they barely even took a step before the wave hit them and sent a searing pain throughout their body, heat flaring up inside them like furnaces.

And thus, they knew no more.

-OBW-

Crocus

"Thanks for your help. I don't think I would've escaped from there in one piece if it wasn't for you."

"You're welcome. Now, about the pay?"

"Oh, of course. 50,000 Jewels, just like we said. If you're looking for more work, you know where I am." (2)

Bahamut nodded in thanks as he accepted the money and walked away. 'That was an easy job. Nice, short, and with a side of action.'

The son of Acnologia contently walked down the busy market street towards Gaelich's bookshop. The past two years had done his body and mind good. He had grown a few good centimeters and some slight muscle could be seen on his arms and legs. His hair reached the nape of his neck and a few bangs fell down his forehead, right next to his lightning-bolt scar. His green eyes remained, even if they were covered by his contacts. He wore brown pants tucked into dark-blue boots, along with a grey shirt that was covered by his hood and cloak.

Becoming a caravan guard was a very smart move on his part. First, it gave him ample opportunity to practice his magic and combat skills in real-life situations, since the danger of raiders and bandits on the road was always present, and he could test his Plasma Magic in ways that he wouldn't have been able to if he was stuck training in that basement. Second, despite him sticking to jobs that made round-trips from Crocus and didn't take too long, he had been able to get a better glimpse at the rest of Fiore, which still astounded him every time he went out of the city.

Third, depending on the job … the pay was good. Simple as that.

The green-eyed mage walked through the market, taking the occasional glimpse at the merchandise. He reached the main street and saw the bookshop from just behind the corner, but the sea of people and carts that moved made it rather difficult to cross. An annoying task to be sure, and he would've just looked for a safe way to cross, but Bahamut was itching to get some rest. He focused his gaze on the bookstore and let his magic flow …

… and disappeared in a blue flash, reappearing next to the door.

Oh, also he discovered he could teleport.

That little discovery was made when a particular job had gone sour and he had to evade a large group of bandits. Accidentally giving into panic, Bahamut found himself appearing on a ledge a nice distance away from the angry horde. After recalling that he had done such a feat twice before, the young mage sought to replicate this newfound power. It took some time and effort (and a whole lot of headaches), but he was eventually able to use this power on command, although not without cost; he could only teleport to a place that was within his line of sight and the experience left him disoriented, which was dangerous in combat, so he needed to use it sparingly.

Case in point, he leaned on the door of the shop trying to clear his head.

It was still much better than his first few attempts, when he felt like he was being squeezed through a narrow tube and one of the merchants he accompanied said that the act made a loud crack.

Bahamut quickly shook his head and straightened up, opening the door and calling out "I'm back!"

Gaelich was sitting behind his desk and looking through one of his books. At the sound of the child's voice, he looked up.

"Back already, huh? How was the job?"

Bahamut shrugged. "It was easy enough. I ran into a little trouble on the way back, but I got through."

"Hrmph. There's nothing new in the schedule, so you can take the rest of the week off."

Bahamut hummed in agreement and went to his room. Not much had changed there, only that there were a few more books and the interior was tidier. He plopped down on his bed and counted his payment.

'This job was cheaper than normal, but it's not too big of a problem. The fact that the old man lets me stay here means I don't have to pay rent.'

Indeed, as a result of the numerous jobs he had taken, Bahamut had earned quite a sum of Jewels. He used them on some essential stuff, like buying better food or sometimes leaving extra rent for Gaelich, but most of it remained safe under his bed.

Speaking of the old shopkeeper, despite him helping out Bahamut during his early training periods, the young mage was rather distant from him, and his jobs had widened that distance considerably. Not that their relationship worsened – it was just more professional these days. In another time, Bahamut might have even considered Gaelich a father figure, if it wasn't for the fact that he already had one.

Bahamut took off his cloak and looked at the dragon symbol on the back, a warm feeling flowing through him.

'I really wish you were here Father … but I won't forget my mission.'

Not a week went by that Bahamut didn't reminisce about Acnologia, and the symbol on his cloak only served to strengthen those memories. Every time he fought away bandits, every time he would learn a new spell, he tried to imagine what the Dragon King's reaction would be – and although the reactions varied, they always ended with the same phrase:

"Keep going."

Bahamut kept staring intently at the symbol and a longing look entered his eyes. 'When will I be strong enough to return to him? I know it won't take forever, but it seems so long.'

He clenched his fist and narrowed his eyes in determination. 'No, I can't think like that. I can't show weakness. I have to keep getting stronger.'

He turned his head and looked out the window, the city in constant motion and the sky touching its spires.

'Wait for me, Father … I'll come back to you.'

-OBW-

The next day, Bahamut decided to go for a stroll around the city, thinking that maybe he could find another job. If not that, then he did it just to breathe the city's air again. He walked out of the shop after waving goodbye to Gaelich and headed out to the main square. It was an uneventful yet peaceful day at the capital, with the shops and passersby minding their own business, but the young mage welcomed it.

Soon enough, he arrived at the main square. In addition to the city gates and the market, the main square was one of the busiest places in Crocus. Everyone who visited the city passed through it at some point, not only due to its beauty – with its lacrima-powered magic fountain and gleaming marble statue bearing the royal emblem – but also because a lot of important government buildings were located in the square's area, with the most prominent of them being none other than Mercurius – the Royal Palace itself.

Due to it naturally being the largest and tallest building in the city, Bahamut always saw the magnificent palace every time he ventured outside. Located on an island in a small lake and surrounded by blue walls, the Royal Palace was a symbol of the kingdom's power and influence, with its large arches and towering spires.

For a good while Bahamut's reason for accepting mercenary jobs was to build up a high enough reputation so that the Royal Family – or at the very least, one of the mages that worked there – would grant him access to their training grounds, and perhaps even allow him to learn some of the magics there. But as he kept going on more and more escort missions (thus getting into more and more fights, and as a result honing his magic and combat skills), his goal of getting to the Royal Training Grounds became more of a 'side-bonus' than anything else. After having tasted the life on the road without feeling like he could get killed at any given moment, the prospect of staying in one place for his 'training trip' seemed somewhat…unappealing. There was far more to Fiore than just Crocus after all.

Who knows? Maybe he would have more success with magic travelling than staying in a bookshop.

Bahamut crossed the square and arrived at a large tavern. Right next to it was a billboard with posters filled with various requests, including a few escort requests, but none seemed to particularly stand out or catch his eye. Sighing, he entered the tavern.

"Ah, Bahamut! It's been a while, come on over!"

The corners of Bahamut's lips twitched as he made his way to the bar. He sat down and shook the hand of the one who called him over; a bearded merchant with dark hair and blue eyes. His name was Janus, and he was one of Bahamut's more frequent business partners. The two had met a month after the green-eyed mage started taking missions, and while initially skeptical of hiring him due to his age, Janus had come to respect the boy and spread the word about him to other merchants.

"So, here looking for a new job? Didn't you just finish one?"

The young mage shrugged. "I was just taking a stroll. I passed by and figured it couldn't hurt to look."

Janus chuckled in amusement. "Whatever you say. Well, you picked a good time to take a walk. The weather's nice and the city's quiet. You should keep on enjoying the day, I don't have any news for you."

"I'm already here, so I might as well stay for a while. Besides, I'm a bit hungry."

Janus slapped the table and laughed. "You've got a point there. Why don't I get something for you, on me?"

"That would be nice."

Janus called over the bartender and Bahamut asked what did they have. A minute later, the child was silently munching on a chocolate-custard cream puff while the merchant drank some sake. The two then exchanged small talk and enjoyed each other's company. At one point they moved outside to sit at one of the benches near the fountain.

An hour or so passed and the merchant was idly sipping his sake when he noticed a man walking to the billboard and putting up a poster before walking away. His interest piqued, he motioned for Bahamut to follow him before walking to the poster and reading its contents:

Escort/s Needed!

We are part of a construction crew and we require an escort for our caravan, delivering building supplies to help with reconstruction. Our location is at Pangaea Wood and Earth near the main square for contact and further details.

Date of departure: 10th of April

Location: Rosemary Village – Round trip

Reward: 55,000 Jewels.

"Well, what do you think?"

Bahamut looked at the request with a small amount of interest. It looked simple enough; he had seen this kind of request many times before. The upside to this one, however, was the fact it was fresh – meaning there would be less competition for the job if he chose to apply. The mercenary business was a competitive one after all.

He hummed in approval. "Where exactly is Rosemary Village?"

Janus scratched his chin in thought. "I believe it's located somewhere near the southern river, although I may be wrong. Truth be told, I haven't heard from that village in a good while ever since it was raided."

"Raided?"

"Oh yes, raided…in a very bad way" the merchant's tone became somber as he kept on talking. "Roughly 3 years ago – or less if memory serves me – all contact from that village ceased abruptly. When the authorities arrived at the village, most of it was burnt to the ground and corpses littered the street. But what was especially worrying was the lack of children there, alive or dead."

"Children?"

"Unfortunately, based on the evidence, it looks like the raiders were slavers, and they came for those poor children. Not the first this has happened in recent years you know, several other villages have fallen to the same fate, and no-one seems to know why."

'Slavers…' A nauseous feeling bubbled in the young mage's gut. The memory of the night he was forced to take his first life still lingered on in the back of his mind, including the sight of those terrified people in the cage. The thought of what they would probably be forced to go through if he and Acnologia didn't arrive that night repulsed him, but to hear that there were people – and children no less – that were actually going through all of that?

Disgusting.

Bahamut swallowed the bile that threatened to rise up his throat and settled for merely clenching his fists. Abominable as the subject may be, he couldn't show weakness.

"They must have finally decided to resettle the village…" muttered Janus. He turned to the young mage and remarked. "You should take this job. If anything, its at least good pay. The shop is just down the street to your right."

Bahamut hummed in confirmation. He nodded politely to the man in thanks and started to walk to the aforementioned store.

"Wait! A question, if I may?"

Bahamut turned around in curiosity and nodded.

"Ever since I did my first job with you, I've wondered…why do you not join one of the Mage Guilds? I've seen you on the job enough to believe that any guild would accept you. It would certainly be a lot more rewarding than the mercenary life."

Bahamut looked down at the floor, his expression pensive. There were several answers he could've given Janus. He could've said that he enjoyed life in Crocus better. Maybe he was going to travel.

Instead, he shifted his gaze to his cloak, the dragon symbol on his back appearing in his mind's eye.

"…I made a promise to someone that I would return to him. I can't have anything tying me down."

-OBW-

April 12th, X777

Rosemary Village

"Alright, get ready to pull! On my mark … ready … heave!"

Bahamut leaned on one of the new houses as he watched the men pull up a wooden beam into place. The job was just like what he thought it was; simple and to the point. They had arrived at the village yesterday evening and successfully delivered the fresh supply of lumber and cement. Now his client and his men were helping the new villagers set up some of the buildings.

After watching the men set up the house further, Bahamut decided to take a look around the old village.

True to what Janus said, the village was very small. So small that if it wasn't for the houses – both restored and new – he wouldn't have thought that there was one here in the first place. Trees and greenery surrounded the area and grew all over the place, hiding most of the ruins, if there were any. For that reason, the newcomers decided to not only rebuild but to expand the village. Bahamut even overheard them adding ideas for various facilities and stores.

He walked along the path, idly taking note of his surroundings, when his eyes fell on an old building, one that seemed a bit more intact than the rest: some parts of the walls were still standing and the roof's skeleton was there, if rather singed. It wasn't anything remarkable, but it nevertheless made the young mage curious.

He slowly entered the ruins, being careful not to break anything and looked around. Like the outside, the inside wasn't remarkable; splinters of wood and glass shards littered the floor, the remains of furniture lay strewn. He took a couple more steps when he saw something peeking out from under some wood. He bent down and lifted the wood to see a stuffed bear, its fur singed and torn.

'…it looked like the raiders were slavers, and they came for the poor children.'

Janus' words echoed in his mind as Bahamut bent down and gently picked up the teddy bear. The ruins suddenly looked a lot bleaker than before.

'There were children here' he thought. 'Children who were taken away, their parents killed, and now…'

Now? Probably dead or wishing they were.

His thumb gently stroked the toy's fur when he heard something. It was very faint and had he been anyone else he wouldn't have picked up on it, but thanks to his father's training, he could make it out: a slight breathing sound, coming from behind one of the bushes.

He slowly raised his head and turned to the direction of the sound. A very faint hiss came, and then he heard nothing. The green-eyed child put the toy down and took a slow step towards the bush. He still heard nothing. Then another.

And another.

And another.

Until he reached the bush, its branches at his fingertips. No new sound was heard, meaning that whatever it was, it hadn't run off. He gently parted the branches and leaned in …

… only to meet the hazel eyes a girl.

…

…

…

The young mage calmly leaned back a little ('I didn't flinch') to take a better look. The girl, to give her credit, just blinked, but widened her eyes.

She was about his height, if a little shorter. She had dark purple hair that fell to the middle of her back and wore a white headband with a white ribbon tied at the middle with a bow, pointing straight up. She wore a small brown coat that parted open at the middle to reveal a faded white shirt, black baggy pants that were held by a grey sash and worn-out sandals.

'She looks…familiar. Have I seen her before?'

The two just stared at each for a while before Bahamut took a step and went through the bush. The girl took a step back and shifted her body, revealing a small dagger under her sash. He raised his arms in surrender to calm her down. It worked, and she seemed to relax, but the silence still remained.

The two kept staring at each other, with Bahamut tilting his head in childish interest and a hint of curiosity appearing in the girl's eyes.

"Um … Hi."

The greeting made the girl blink again in surprise, but she quickly resettled into an emotionless stare.

" … Hello."

Bahamut was honestly at a loss on what to do. He had barely interacted with children his age during any period of his life until now, and most conversations he had with people that weren't Acnologia tended to be more professional than anything. Even with Gaelich he rarely had an actual conversation, the bulk of the talking being done by the shopkeeper when tutoring him with magic or assigning him tasks in the shop.

But the silence between them was starting to get a tad uncomfortable so …

" … Why were you hiding?"

The girl didn't reply, but she lowered her head, peeking at the ruins of the house from the corner of her eye. Bahamut saw her gaze shift and understood.

"Did you live here?"

" … Yes," the girl answered, albeit hesitantly.

His eyes slightly widened at her answer. 'If she lived here, then that means … ' he bit his lip as his line of thought trailed off. She escaped those slavers.

"My brother and I lived in that house … but when they came, I escaped and he was taken."

Bahamut looked down to the ground as he clenched his fists. 'That must be horrible, knowing that someone you know is living a life like that.'

He was broken from his thoughts when he heard the girl whisper. "Wait … you couldn't be … could you?"

He heard leaves rustle and refocused back on the girl, only to freeze in surprise as she was now directly in front of him, leaning into his face. He remained frozen, unsure what to do as she stared intently at him, her eyes occasionally shifting above him before she let out a soft gasp.

"You're that boy … "

Bahamut just went more confused by her statement. 'She knows me? I don't think I met her, but she did look familiar before … '

She must have caught his confused look because she kept talking. "You saved me from those slavers that night in the forest … that man with you opened our cage and let us go … "

A jolt of surprise went through the young mage at the mention of that forest. How could he forget? That was the reason why he was repulsed by slavers so much. He took a good long look at the girl, his eyes trailing up her face and stopping at the white ribbon on her head as a flash of recognition came to life in his eyes.

'Wait … isn't she … ?'

Flashback

A sudden sob drew his gaze to the slave cage, where all of its occupants stared at either him or the corpses, fear and some relief showing in their eyes against the light of the red embers. In particular, a girl with a white ribbon tied to her head gave him a look with a myriad of emotions, but he was too distracted to tell.

Flashback end

"You were that girl in the cage, weren't you?"

Nodding, she took a step back and bowed to him. "I cannot thank you enough for that time … I don't know what would I have done otherwise … "

"Uh … you're welcome. You didn't deserve that fate."

"I know that. But I still thank you regardless." She raised herself and held out her hand. "I'm Kagura Mikazuchi."

"I'm Bahamut. Just … Bahamut." He stepped closer and shook her hand. It felt different than the other hands he shook, usually after the completion of a job. It was … soft and warm, with a gentleness he hadn't felt before.

"So … how did you know it was me from back then?" he asked as he let go of her hand.

"Your eyes and your hair, but mainly your eyes. I haven't seen such green eyes in anyone else, even from behind those glasses that you wore. Your hair is still that black mess, even if it is longer."

Bahamut raised an eyebrow. "You remember all of that?"

"That night was … rather hard to forget."

Bahamut internally winced. 'Oh. Yeah … when you think about it, something like that does seem hard to forget.'

Kagura then started to walk towards the ruined house, brushing past his cloak and stepping through the bushes. Bahamut silently followed her. She went inside, her eyes drifting around the remains before picking up the stuffed bear and gently stroking its fur, her eyes shining with glimmers of emotion.

All the while, Bahamut stood nearby and silently watched her. Eventually, however, he asked her a question.

"Why did you come back here?"

Kagura stopped stroking the bear's fur and looked Bahamut in the eye, all traces of emotion gone from her own.

" … After I managed to escape, I ran away and lived on the road. It was bad, but I managed to learn how to defend myself. I decided to try and find my brother again; I … I just had to know if he was alive. After you freed me, I kept on travelling, trying to look for him. I heard that people were rebuilding this village again, and I thought that … he might be here." She let out a mirthful chuckle. "I guess I was hoping for too much."

The purple-haired girl tucked the bear inside her coat. "Can we … can we keep talking somewhere else? It's just that … "

"Oh sure, follow me."

With those words, Bahamut went outside the ruins and started walking down the path that led to the caravan, with Kagura following him. They soon reached the caravan, but he saw no-one else in sight.

'They must have gone to help in some other part of the village.'

He climbed up and sat down on the caravan's seat, patting the spot next to him for Kagura to join. She did so, and Bahamut pulled out two apples from one of the crates inside; he was getting a bit hungry.

The two slowly ate their snacks, with Kagura savouring the apple a little more than he did. But he understood why, so he didn't comment. After they finished their snacks, they just leaned back and silently stared at the village.

A while later, Kagura spoke up.

"It's … hard to imagine. After I escaped, I overheard that there was nothing left but now … people might actually live here again."

"Hmm. People need a place to live. It's not that surprising."

"I know, but after what happened here … won't they be afraid that they might be attacked again?"

"I don't think so. They've probably learned from last time." Kagura didn't reply to that.

She turned to look at him. "That man with you that night … who was he?"

Bahamut froze at the question. Acnologia explicitly told him not to tell anybody about him, so he couldn't exactly tell her who he was, even though she saw him. 'Wait … I don't have to tell her who he is exactly. It's not as if anybody else doesn't know I have a father.'

" … That was my father."

"Your father? He used magic to free us. Is he a mage?"

Bahamut smiled as a touch of pride entered his voice. "He's the strongest mage I've ever met."

"Where is he now?"

Another sensitive question.

" … He sent me away. He said I needed to grow stronger before he could teach me more." Even though he knew his father did so with nothing but good intentions, the topic still left a sting in the child's heart.

Kagura gasped. "How could he do that? That's just cruel to do to anyone, especially to your own child. What kind of a father is he!?"

Bahamut shot her an angry look and clenched his fist. He knew that but …

" … He took me in when no-one else did. He trained me and made me stronger. I don't care if he's like that, he's still the only father I have!"

At that point, Bahamut had slightly raised his voice and it gained an angry tone. Kagura just sat there wide-eyed, surprised at his strong rebuttal.

" … I'm sorry. It's just that … I lost my brother, so I can't really imagine anyone abandoning their family like that willingly." Bahamut calmed down and sighed.

"I know that, but … I just don't like anyone insulting him. He said I could come back when I grew stronger. He did what he did for a good reason, believe me."

The purple-haired girl nodded and fiddled with the apple core in her hand. She thought about what he said, trying to find some way to justify it in her mind when she noticed something.

"You said that he took you in. Did something happen to your parents?"

Now that got Bahamut to clamp up and look down. He was not talking about Kazuto or Harry Potter. Those were things he didn't want to remember again, especially the latter.

Kagura noticed his discomfort and hastily apologized. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -"

"It's fine, it's fine. Just … I don't like to talk about that."

An awkward air hung over the two as they tried to think of something to say to each other to alleviate the tension. It stayed like this for a minute or two before the young mage finally decided to speak up.

"What are you going to do now? I don't think your brother is here."

Kagura turned her gaze to the town and looked at the houses. "I guess I'll just keep looking. I promised myself that I would find him, and I won't go back on what I said."

Her hazel eyes shone with a determined glint as she spoke those words, something that made Bahamut empathize with her:. iIt was the same determination in her voice that he heard whenever he spoke about his father.

Maybe that's why he asked her this, but truth be told, he didn't really know.

"Do you want to come with me?"

She turned to him with a shocked expression on her face. "Excuse me?"

"Well … it's just that … your brother could be anywhere –"

'If he's still alive,'

"– and you have no idea where to actually look, right? I'm planning on travelling around Fiore soon enough. Maybe we can find your brother faster if we travelled together. If not, I work in the capital city. You can find anything there, maybe we could find some news about him.

Also … you're most likely going to have to fight people if you want to succeed. I don't think that dagger you have will be enough. You can learn magic with me and become strong enough to fight for your brother."

As Kagura sat there in shock, the gears in her head were slowly turning, Bahamut's own thoughts were running a mile a minute.

'It sounds like a good idea. If she comes with me, I can also get stronger by training with her. What father said about letting nothing hinder me won't matter because she'll be as strong as me, and … '

A memory flashed through the young mage's mind, of children laughing and playing with one another. Despite what he tried to tell himself and his father's teaching, Bahamut still desired companionship as much as he desired strength.

' … Maybe I'll finally have someone to talk to., and I won't be so lonely anymore.'

He returned his attention to the girl and saw her contemplating the offer. After a tense moment, she sighed and looked him in the eye.

" … Okay. You made some good points. I'll join you." Bahamut smiled and started to reply.

"But," she cut him off. "I won't be your servant. If we really are going to do this, then we have to do this together."

She held out her hand for him. "Deal?"

While a bit confused at what she said – since her statement was his intention from the start – Bahamut nonetheless shook her hand.

"Deal."

The two smiled at each other as they shook hands.

"Pleased to meet you … Kagura."

"I hope we get along well … Bahamut."

* * *

 **(1) etsy. com il-en/listing/624338121/celtic-dragon-dragon-symbol-irish You know the drill, remove the spaces and place a "/" after the ".com"**

 **(2) $1 = 100 Jewels according to Mashima. I looked up some requests that guilds would take and chose a reasonable price regarding the escort.**

 **Well, there you have it! Bahamut finally gets his first companion! I'll leave you guys guessing who will be the rest.**

 **THE IMPORTANT AN: I have noticed that despite the many, many views/faves/follows I get - to which I am ETERNALLY grateful and happy to know that you are all supporting me - I noticed that I don't get a lot of reviews in comparison. I know this might sound nitpicky, but these reviews help me. They let me know how well I am writing this story as well as your thoughts and opinions on it. "Nice chapter" reviews are all well and nice and welcome, but reviews that are a little more in-depth (your thoughts, what you liked/didn't like about the chapter/story) are even more welcome. **

**Again, sorry if I sound nitpicky, but it's the truth. (Flames, spammers, and haters will be ignored)**

 **On two other notes: I have a poll on my profile page! Go check it out and vote!**

 **Also: If someone could make fanart or a TVTropes page for this, I would greatly appreciate it (especially the former). I just think it would be awesome to actually see Bahamut and Acnologia together.**

 **Go check out my other stories and challenges on my profile and bio! (Has no-one checked them?)**

 **Omake challenge about Bahamut, Acnologia and "The Talk" still up!**

 **Until next time...**

 **Read and review!**


	11. Chapter 10 - Revelations

**Hi guys! I'm back with a new chapter! Yeah, I know, so soon!**

 **IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT AT THE BOTTOM!**

 **Hope you guys enjoy and constructive criticism is welcome!**

* * *

 **I do not own Harry Potter or Fairy Tail.**

* * *

 **Chapter 10 - Revelations**

"Are we there yet?"

"We should be. It's just over those hills."

"Oh. That was lucky."

"Yeah, first time you ask that and we're almost there."

Kagura nodded, a tiny smirk of satisfaction showing on her previously calm face. Bahamut just rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat.

After Kagura had agreed to accompany him, it took surprisingly little effort to convince the merchants to allow her on the caravan. He was ready to negotiate with them and was even about to say that he would be willing to accept a smaller reward for the mission when she looked at the merchants with big eyes and shifted her toes while asking them in a soft, nearly pleading tone if she could come, and that she wouldn't be any trouble.

Bahamut just stood there with a confused look, while the head merchant waved his arms in reassurance and said that he'd be glad to allow her on board.

Their ride back to Crocus was rather quiet, free of any bandits or other such obstructions. Conversation between the two ranged from brief small-talk to nonexistent, due to Bahamut's social skills with people his age (or rather, the lack of them) and Kagura's natural quietness.

The caravan passed over the hills and the walls of Crocus soon came into view. The green-eyed mage glanced out of the corner of his eye to his new companion, where he saw the slight widening of her eyes, no doubt surprised at the sight of the magnificent city. He should know, after all.

They passed through the city gates shortly after and drove to the shop near the main square, all the while Kagura was taking in her surroundings. When they arrived at the shop, Bahamut helped the merchant and his workers unload and received his pay. After thanking them with a curt nod, he motioned her to follow him down the street.

The two children passed by the houses and shops, all the while people passed by them, barely paying them any attention, going about their lives. The purple-haired girl kept staring in awe at the shops while Bahamut made sure she didn't stray away from him. Eventually, they arrived at Gaelich's bookshop.

"Are you there Gaelich?" called out Bahamut as he and his companion entered the shop, where the front desk was unmanned.

"Back already?" the old shopkeeper asked from the back of the shop. The shuffling of shoes was heard and the older man walked to Bahamut.

"It wasn't a very big job."

"Oh really?" he asked, "What was it again if you don't mind me asking?"

"Just escorting some lumber to rebuild a new village." Gaelich chuckled in response.

"Taking it easy, huh?" It was then that he noticed the newcomer in the shop, his eyes meeting her hazel ones. "And who might you be, lass?"

"Kagura Mikazuchi, sir" the girl replied with a short bow. "I apologize for intruding."

The old man nodded back in greeting, then turned to Bahamut with a raised eyebrow.

"I met her at the village where we dropped off the cargo. She'd been wandering around Fiore until then. I promised her she could help me with my jobs and stay with me."

Gaelich let out a grunt of mirthful bemusement; the fact that this situation existed was shameful as it was. Children shouldn't be worrying about shelter and money at this age. He faced Kagura again and asked, "Why were you wandering around, lass? Where are your parents?"

Kagura said nothing and looked down in somberness. The shopkeeper saw the change in demeanor and widened his eyes in realization. "I'm sorry if I brought up bad memories, young miss. I was merely worried that –"

"It…it's fine," she replied, her tone a tad darker than before. "You couldn't have known."

"No, if anything, I should have known by your clothes. I do hope you forgive this old man." He bowed slightly in apology. "Well, in these circumstances I'd be happy to accommodate you. However, I am sorry to say that I do not have any more rooms, so you'll have to sleep with my assistant here, if that's alright with you."

While she quirked her eyebrow at the mention of 'assistant', Kagura didn't have any qualms with the offer and nodded in consent. She and her brother slept in the same room when they were together.

Bahamut didn't have any problem with it either, and she didn't seem like the type to disturb his reading if the ride back was any indication. "I don't have problems with it."

Gaelich chuckled in amusement. "Alright then, I'll go see if I have a spare futon." He then muttered under his breath, "to be so young and innocent…at least they're not teenagers yet."

"Did you say something?" asked Bahamut.

Gaelich waved him off. "Just the ramblings of a crazy old man. Why don't you two go upstairs while I look for something for the young lass?"

The two nodded and went upstairs to Bahamut's room, where they sat down on the bed in silence. Kagura fiddled with the blanket for a short while, occasionally glancing around the room, before speaking again.

"He said you were his assistant; what was he talking about?"

"Before I started taking escort requests, like the one that carried us here, I helped him around the shop with books and other stuff. I haven't helped him much lately, but he said he doesn't mind."

She hummed in response. "You said I would become stronger here. How?"

"Well, this shop has some magic books, and one of them might work for you. We also have a basement where we can train, but I get a lot of practice when I take jobs."

His eyes moved to the dagger at her hip. "We can go and get a better sword if you want. There are some good stores here, and I think some of them will sell you if you show them that you know how to use a weapon."

"O-Oh," she muttered, her eyes widening in surprise. She fiddled with the blanket again, unsure of what to really say. This was very overwhelming.

"Th-Thank you."

Bahamut looked at her in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"It's just that…not long ago I was homeless and hungry, and I didn't know what to do or where to go, but now? You offer me a place to stay and you're helping me get stronger. Why?"

The green-eyed mage was confused. Didn't he say why before? "You need help in finding your brother and I need help getting stronger too. I figured this way we can help each other out."

Kagura shot him an accusing glare. "So you're using me? I told you before, I won't be your servant."

"It's not that!" exclaimed Bahamut. "I told you, this way we can help each other out and…"

"…well?" asked an impatient Kagura.

At this point, Bahamut didn't know if he should reveal his other reason. On one hand, he had to say so she wouldn't think he was using her, but on the other hand…

If he said it to her, he'll look weak. He couldn't have that; he couldn't show weakness.

 _Never. Show. Weakness._

But what was more important; him getting stronger or allowing his pride and his father's teachings to get in the way of it?

"…I know what it's like, being lonely."

That was it. That was all he was willing to say.

Kagura heard his tone drop and remembered how he had clamped up back in the village. Her gaze softened and she said in understanding, "I'm sorry, I was just a little overwhelmed."

"It's fine, I would think this a little strange too if I was in your place."

The two resumed sitting in silence, this time with noticeably less tension in the air. A few minutes later, Gaelich entered the room with a futon and a blanket in his hands.

"I'll just drop this off here and you can place wherever you like. If you need anything else, just ask, alright lass?"

"I'm fine for –" " _ **growl"**_

The shopkeeper and the mage stared at the girl as she looked away in embarrassment. Gaelich let out a chuckle of amusement.

"Well, it looks like your stomach says otherwise, lass. Come on, let's go find the both of you something to eat."

He suddenly turned to Bahamut. "As for you, I have a new order of books coming up tomorrow. I need your help in sorting and placing them, so don't try to weasel out of this one!"

This time it was Bahamut who grumbled in embarrassment while Kagura smiled. This was going to be an interesting time, that's for sure.

 **-OBW-**

 _Mt. Zonia, X777_

Spring had just arrived, but on Mt. Zonia, it didn't mean much. The white peak and snowy slopes of the mountain never thawed, and the winds were as cold as ever. The only differences were that said winds were softer now, and the snow surrounding the mountain became softer.

Currently, the sole denizen of the mountain was doing something that he hadn't done in a long time: reading.

Acnologia was sitting in the mountainside cave, sitting on the fur blankets, reading a book.

He didn't exactly remember why or when he decided to open up a book. The Dragon King was simply meditating one day, feeling his magic flow through him when a strong gust of wind flew into the cave and knocked down one of the books. He took a look over his shoulder to see what had happened and went to put the book back. What followed wasn't exactly clear, but he had wound up reading the whole thing and staring at it in befuddlement.

He tried to avoid it, but every now and then for the past two years or so he would read one of the books in the cave. When he had read them all, he either flew to the ruins of Dragnof or to Kilika Town to acquire more.

It had surprised him, but not in a bad way. He respected books and the knowledge that they held; knowledge was power after all. He just didn't think he would ever find the need to ever read one again. Not since he picked up the magic tomes for Bahamut's training.

' _Heh. For some reason, everything that's been happening to me is somehow related to that whelp,'_ he thought. _'Strange thing is, none of these things have proved detrimental to me.'_

True enough, he hadn't gotten rid of that reflex to check in the cave for his son. Along with that, he read the books he brought him, sometimes slept near his blanket, even used one of the hunting lessons he gave him to amuse himself. The cave – the whole mountain - felt emptier than before.

Hell, if he was any weak human, he might have even said (even then, with _extreme_ reluctance) that he…missed the damn whelp's presence.

The Dragon Slayer quickly shook his head of such thoughts. _'It's not as if he's gone for good. I didn't send him out there blind.'_

He returned his gaze to the book he was reading. It was an encyclopedia of various magical beasts that he bought himself. As a way to amuse himself, he made a little game where he would look at a picture of the beast and deduce how to eliminate it without looking at the words in the shortest time possible. For an extra challenge, he used the perspective of a hunter and not his supreme self (since all fights would end than less in a second).

He had gone through 20 with a record of 5 seconds each.

Acnologia flipped the page to see an image of a black fish, with wing-like flippers and blue orbs at its sides. It had two sets of eyes and a gaping toothless maw. Its underside was a smooth gray, with little crab-like legs on the center.

' _Avoid the mouth and stay away from line-of-sight. Pierce the flippers to cripple movement and move away from water. Stab or slash the underside repeatedly, near the gills, to paralyze, then finish by piercing the mouth._

 _Four seconds, new record.'_

He looked to the description of the beast:

 **Black Ikhthys**

 _This creature is an aquatic fish with the predominant ability to leap and glide over the water. It hunts smaller fish using its vacuum-like maw that sucks them up with the water. The orbs at its sides serve as reserve water bubbles for breathing, in addition to producing electrical shocks for defense. Due to this, the fish can walk on land for a very limited time using its small legs._

 _This fish is the cousin to the Flying Ikhthys, and was not born via natural means. Many speculations have arisen as to how this mutated and more dangerous version came to be, including ones that label this fish as an experiment of the infamous Black Mage Zeref…_

Acnologia paused at that sentence, his hands gripping the book as he recalled his encounter with said Mage those two years ago…

 **-OBW-**

" _What do you want…Black Wizard?"_

 _The youthful-looking man turned his head and met the Dragon King's gaze, his smile never once fading. He stepped inside the cave and the two walked forward until they were an arm's length away, not even flinching at Acnologia's piercing stare._

 _He didn't say a word._

" _I will not repeat myself; what are you doing here?"_

 _Zeref kept smiling, his robes fluttering ever so slightly in the wind._

" _Can't I come and say hello to an old friend?"_

 _Acnologia scoffed. "The tales about your descent into delusion and insanity must be fact if you think we were ever 'friends'"_

" _Such hostility…then again, I'd expect no less from you. Rest assured," he shook his head "I have not come here to fight. I merely wish to talk."_

" _Talk? You came all this way to_ _ **talk?**_ _To me no less?" asked Acnologia in disbelief._

 _Zeref tilted his head in innocence, whether it was mocking or not he didn't know, "Is it that strange, that a man would simply wish to talk?"_

 _The Dragon King clenched his fists and heightened his guard. The day he believed_ _ **that**_ _would be the day when humans become superior. He hadn't seen the Black Wizard for years, and whenever they did meet, it certainly wasn't to_ _ **talk.**_

" _My patience is thin as is, Zeref. Tell me what do you want, or leave."_

" _I told you, I only want to talk, nothing more." The black-haired man walked around Acnologia and sat down on the fur blanket. The Dragon King sat cross-legged opposite him, his gaze never easing for a second. A short, yet tense silence stretched between the two, with only the faint whispering of the wind daring to disturb it._

" _This is a nice place you have here. Very cozy." Zeref leaned down and felt the fur between his fingers. He moved his gaze around the cave, silently taking in – or admiring, Acnologia could never guess – the walls of the cave, until he saw the pile of books near the far wall. He let out a small hum of surprise._

" _I never took you for an intellectual."_

" _What do you mean by_ _ **that?**_ _" asked Acnologia with a growl, as if the impudent Mage was mocking his intelligence._

" _I meant no offense, I just never saw you as the type to sit down and just read a book."_

" _You know nothing about me, so stop your little mind games and pretending that you_ _ **do**_ _."_

 _Zeref chuckled. "Indeed. I don't."_

 _Acnologia raised an eyebrow. Where was he going with this?_

 _The Black Mage raised his hand and rubbed his head, as though he was trying to recall something. "Humor me, O Black Dragon of Apocalypse, and answer me this: has your goal changed since we last met?"_

 _He narrowed his eyes as the gears turned in his head. 'He's playing_ _ **this**_ _game? Interesting. Very well, but never forget that your opponent can play as well…'_

" _No, it has not."_

"' _To find a challenge, one so great that the result will shake this world to its core and scar its face for evermore', am I right?" the Black Mage asked._

" _Indeed, and if I recall, you said that you shall grant me this challenge; all I have to do is wait – and waited I have."_

 _Acnologia slightly leaned forward and a dark grin crept up his face._

" _Is something the matter,_ _ **Black Wizard?**_ _" he asked mockingly. "Have you come to fulfill that promise?"_

 _A pressure built up in the air…_

"… _Or have you lost your nerve?"_

… _and burst from his body._

 _The mountain started to quake under the intense pressure as storm clouds gathered above it. The air started gaining the smell of ozone and the pressure around Acnologia seemed to condense until it gained a shadowy form:_

 _The form of a black dragon, whose howl made the air toll like a bell._

 _Zeref inclined his head and seemed to shiver in fear. But then a low chuckle came from lips as the air around him twisted and darkened, forming a vortex-like aura that seemed to bend the space around it. As his chuckle grew louder and louder, the sounds of millions screaming in pain and despair seemed to seep from the walls. His chuckling slowly drifted out and he lifted his head…_

… _and met Acnologia's gaze with glowing, almost demonic, red eyes._

 _The black aura suddenly expanded, clashing with the black dragon as they pushed each other. Sounds of despairing screams and inhuman howls echoed around the two titans. The mountain shook harder and harder, the storm clouds spat lightning and thunder, and the snow around it_ _ **died**_ _and turned to ash._

 _The shaking grew and grew until it seemed like the mountain was going to crack…_

… _only for everything to go still. Absolutely still._

 _The stench of ozone and death lingered as the clouds in the sky slowly parted away, letting the warm sunlight stream through._

 _A dark yet soft laugh came from the Dragon King's lips. His silted eyes slightly glowed with tinges of red and blue._

" _I see. I should not have thought otherwise, knowing who you are. You have amused me, immortal. I shall bide my time once more, and I eagerly wait for what you shall bring."_

 _The glow in the black-haired mage's eyes faded away, and he rose from his position and nodded. "I thank you for this talk, Dragon King. Do not worry, your challenge shall come and the festival will begin anew."_

 _He started to walk towards the exit when a loud BONK came from behind the book pile. Zeref turned around with a curious look and curved a finger inwards faster than the Dragon Slayer could react._

 _What flew from behind the pile and knocked it over was none other than Bahamut's wood carving._

 _For the first time in ages, Acnologia sat frozen on the ground, unable to move as he stared at the mage who turned the carving around in his hand, examining it with the same curious look. He did so for a few seconds before smiling again and gently placing the carving on the ground._

" _It seems as though you were right; I_ _ **don't**_ _know you."_

 _He made no move; his face was completely expressionless._

" _Now that I'm looking at it, this place_ _ **does**_ _seem a little too roomy for your taste."_

 _In his mind, Acnologia was thinking at a furious pace. 'He couldn't know…I made sure of it…'_

" _I'm guessing this is the source of your little impulse then. Even with impatience, you seek to make the best of it…"_

' _How does he know? **HOW DOES HE KNOW!?** '_

" _Do not worry; I just have to make my effort for your challenge a…joint contribution."_

 _Zeref turned his back once more and walked until he reached the mouth of the cave. He then paused and turned to Acnologia with a strange look in his eyes, one of softness and…was that understanding?_

" _It's such a wonderful thing…believe me, I know."_

 _He hummed in thought as he brought his finger to his chin._

" _But I do have to wonder, O Dragon King…"_

 _A mocking and a curious tone entered his voice as he spoke, while Acnologia gritted his teeth in an ever-building rage._

"… _How much does_ _ **he**_ _know?"_

 _Those words finally made Acnologia bolt at lightning-speed from his spot and charge at Zeref, only to hit the air with such force that a sonic boom echoed across the white plains._

 _He stood there, his fist extended and teeth clenched in anger. He smelled no human in sight and jumped to the peak to extended his range, only to smell nothing. He kicked his brain into overdrive, trying to figure out how did he know when something clicked in his mind._

' _Curse you…'_

 _He clenched his fists tightly and the air around him heated up._

' _You knew all along…'_

 _Black scales appeared on his arms and face, his pupils turning red and his fangs sharpening._

' _You just came here to confirm it…'_

 _That accursed Black Mage_ _ **tricked**_ _him…_

" _RRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA_ _ **AAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!"**_

 _A blue flash and crack came and the Black Dragon opened its wings and roared in fury._

" _ **DAAAAAAAMNN YYYOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUU! BLACK WIZAAAAAAAAAAAAARD!"**_

 **-OBW-**

Needless to say, Acnologia was thoroughly _pissed_ at being one-upped like that (by a human no less, Black Mage or no), so he flew out east and vented his rage on some mountain ranges. After he had calmed down enough to logically think, he tried to figure how did Zeref know. No-one knew about the connection between Acnologia and his human form except his son and Zeref. He had been to Kilika Town many times, but he always used a fake name whenever he had to give one, in addition for the town being too far north for the Black Mage to constantly keep an eye out.

The most important fact, however, was that if Zeref was within the range of his senses, he would have found out immediately and as the Dragon King, his range was very, _very_ wide.

That meant Zeref had to have found about him and Bahamut through indirect means. He _sincerely_ doubted he heard from anyone in Kilika, since the two didn't go there _that_ often and he made sure to time their visits when no merchants would be around, so the only time when the two were seen by other people were…

' _The slaves. When I let the slaves go, one of them must have spoken about us and that damn mage must have overheard. The odds of something like this happening would seem funny if not for the infuriating fact that I am unsure what to do now.'_

Being unsure was a rather foreign feeling for him. Even though he felt like this when he first took Bahamut in, he managed to quickly adapt. He got rid of that _weak_ feeling before, and he could do it again.

' _There's nothing I can do about the slaves. What's done is done, I can acknowledge that. From what he said and the way he said it, it didn't sound like he plans to endanger Bahamut. No, I know for a fact that that foolish immortal is too sentimental when it comes to things like this, so I shouldn't worry about him. Ignoring Zeref, I made sure the whelp could take care of himself.'_

Mentally reassuring himself that his son was not in any risk from Zeref (he was _not_ worried about him), Acnologia returned to Mt. Zonia to meditate.

But sometimes his mind still flashed to the 'talk' he had with the black wizard, like now. He closed the book and took a deep breath. Suddenly, his little game didn't seem very amusing anymore.

' _If I had known that taking in that whelp would have caused me_ _ **this**_ _big of a headache, I wouldn't have bothered'_ he slightly grimaced and shook his head. _'No, even without the whelp in the equation, Zeref would've still found a way to annoy me.'_

He let out a small growl as he narrowed his eyes _'I have spent too much time and patience in developing the boy to let that blasted immortal interfere. I would've searched for him long ago if it was anyone other than the Black Wizard saying what he said. When the whelp comes back, I'll prepare him.'_

He gently placed the book on the floor and got up from the blanket, lightly dusting himself. He walked to a spot on the wall and dug his fingers into the rock. He slightly pulled at the rock to reveal a small hole in the wall where his son's statue was placed.

After Zeref made that little show with the statue, Acnologia became paranoid that the same scenario could repeat itself, with Zeref or someone else, so he made a little hiding spot just in case.

Caution was certainly not a weakness, and he would _not_ be caught frozen like that again.

 _Never._

He pulled the statue from the hole and walked back to the blankets, where he sat down and held it in front of him, gazing at it as though it held a clue as to what to do in this situation. His thumb gently traced the small human figure as a tired sigh came forth, a jumble of thoughts running through his head.

If anyone else would've disrupted his simple life until then like that, Acnologia would have killed them on the spot, but not Bahamut. Instead, the smallest hint of an exasperated chuckle escaped his lips as he closed his eyes.

' _You've changed a lot of things here, my challenge-in-the-making. Just raising you has been a challenge all in of itself. You are definitely the most peculiar challenge I have tackled, but I am unsure if this is good or not. I wonder what sort of excitement you can bring me when you return…'_

He opened his eyes again and if anyone were to look at him, they would've seen – no matter how much he would deny it – that the Dragon King's gaze became infinitesimally…softer.

 **-OBW-**

A week after they returned from Rosemary Village, Bahamut decided that now was the time to see what Kagura could do. Which was why the two were in the basement, the purple-haired girl looking curiously at the boy.

During said week, Kagura was given time to properly assimilate into her new home. She, as Bahamut had during his first few days, was a bit dazed by the sheer difference between the countryside and the big city, but she adapted rather quickly. After receiving from him a little money to get her started, she bought herself (with Gaelich's supervision) a few sets of clothes. She currently wore a light-blue robe with black edges and no sleeves and brown, baggy pants (which Bahamut later learned were called _hakama_ ) that were tied together by a black sash. Her white ribbon was still resting atop her head and her sheathed dagger was held between herself and the sash.

Bahamut gave her an appraising look-over before rubbing his chin in thought. _'How should I go with this? Do I ask her to attack me or just demonstrate?'_

"Umm…so, you know how to fight?"

"…Yes, I know how to fight; I wouldn't have survived out in the streets otherwise."

Bahamut slightly winced. _'Right. Stupid question gets a stupid answer.'_

He let out a small sigh before entering a defensive stance. _'Here goes nothing'_

"Attack me."

The mood in the basement turned serious as Kagura bent her knees and shifted her body. With a burst of speed, she charged at Bahamut, sidestepping as she ran to try and confuse him. She got up close and jabbed at him from the side, which he dodged by turning on his heel, but she proved herself clever when she made a sharp turn and delivered a swift blow to his stomach. The hit made the child widen his eyes in surprise, but he recovered immediately and grabbed her arm, throwing her away from him.

Kagura managed to land on her feet and slide back a bit before charging again. This time she aimed at the green-eyed mage's head, to which Bahamut sidestepped and kicked her away, this time making her land on all fours.

' _She's fast. She's aiming for the weak spots in my body while trying to distract me. For someone who's probably trained by herself, she's doing rather well.'_

Kagura charged and leapt, trying to punch him in the belly and the face simultaneously, but Bahamut quickly shifted to the side letting her pass him.

' _Her weakness is that her punches lack power and she's a bit predictable. Father was much faster and nearly impossible to read.'_

She ran towards him and aimed at his leg. Bahamut bent down to block but she then stuck out her leg and slid forward trying to knock him down. She impacted his leg and made him nearly slip, but he held on by the tip of his toes and grabbed her leg, throwing her once more.

' _But she's not Acnologia. It's stupid to compare them.'_

The two repeated this cycle for a few minutes; Kagura rushing him trying to gain an advantage and Bahamut dodging or blocking her attempts, throwing her to the side each time. The two were showing signs of exhaustion, Bahamut less so thanks to his training. The fact that he _was_ feeling it though made his respect for the girl go up a notch. Unlike the bandits that he faced, she actually learned from her mistakes. He threw her once more to the side and she got up, slightly panting and sweat gleaming on her brow.

The green-eyed mage settled into a defensive stance once more before noticing that the dagger on her hip was still sheathed.

"You can use your dagger, you know"

She looked at him as though he was crazy.

"I'll be fine, I know how to block weapons. I want to see what you can do, and I don't want you holding back on me."

She gave him an unsure look but she nonetheless drew her dagger, settling into a different stance. For some reason, her stance seemed more…precise, for a lack of a better term, so Bahamut moved his arms closer to his body for better protection and **Reinforced** his skin; just enough to prevent her from drawing blood and seriously injuring him.

She charged at him and as Bahamut moved to counter, she slashed at him with unexpected speed. He tried to dodge, but the purple-haired girl swung downwards with alarming speed, striking below his collarbone and leaving a white mark.

' _It's like her speed suddenly doubled or something. Does her fighting improve when she has a weapon?'_

The two kept trading blows and blocks, this time with Kagura slowly pushing Bahamut back. He was able to block most of the slashes, but every few blocks she managed to land a scratch, leaving a thin white line on his skin that faded shortly after.

She delivered a flurry of slashes that he attempted to dodge and succeeded, but when he had dodged the last one – an upwards slash - she leaned forward and brought down the dagger. He looked up to try and see where to block it, but what he could've sworn to be a cerulean spark traveling up the dagger and making it shimmer made him lose his focus for a second, which was all that she needed to land a solid blow to his arm, making him wince in pain.

She stepped back twirling her dagger, a hint of a smirk on her lips. Bahamut shook off the pain on his arm and got into a defensive position once again.

' _I let myself be distracted, and had I not_ _ **Reinforced**_ _that arm I would've taken more damage. What was that spark though? Does she know magic?'_

"You didn't tell me you knew magic."

Kagura quirked an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"You know, with that last strike."

She tilted her head in confusion, making Bahamut's eye twitch. Did she really not know?

"Is something wrong?"

"It's nothing. Continue."

She nodded and charged at him, resuming their fight. It was like before, except Bahamut kept an eye out for that spark, but it didn't appear.

' _Well, she's good, I'll give her that. She's adapting quickly'_

He cocked his head to the side to avoid a slash to his shoulder and **Reinforced** his hand, making it lightly glow.

' _Time to end this'_

He pushed her midsection with his **Reinforced** palm, sending her flying towards the basement wall, where she collided and fell to the floor moaning in pain.

Bahamut winced at the sight. _'Did I push too hard?'_

He stepped forward to help her when shakily rose up, a slightly pained expression on her face.

"Umm…are you okay?"

She rubbed her arm and winced, but nodded. The basement trapdoor opened and the two looked up to see Gaelich climbing down the stairs with a bottle of medicine and a roll of bandages. He went to Kagura's side and checked her arm and back.

"Hmm. It's nothing bad. Just some bruising" he poured out a few drops of the medicine onto his hand and rubbed it on her, which made her wince. "It'll fade overnight, so don't worry."

He then turned to Bahamut with an exasperated look.

"I leave you two for a moment and this happens? I thought you only smacked people around _outside_ the city."

The child was quick to defend himself. "I just told her to show me if she can fight."

"Mm-hm, and let me guess, you tried to end the fight and this happened?"

Bahamut nodded and the shopkeeper let out a sigh.

"Try and be careful next time, will you? It's a good thing I thought this might happen so I was nearby. She's not as durable as you."

' _Oh. That does make sense'_ Even Acnologia made sure to pace his training.

The old man picked up the medicine and climbed out.

Bahamut looked at the purple-haired girl and rubbed his head apologetically.

"Uh, sorry. I…should have just told you to stop."

"It's*ah*it's fine" replied Kagura as the pain slowly lessened. "How*ah*how did I do?"

"Well, …you did better than I thought, especially with that dagger. Where did you learn that?"

"I stayed with a woman for some time and I helped her around in return for a few lessons. The rest I just…picked up myself, I guess."

That was impressive. He didn't know much about sword-fighting (or dagger-fighting in this case), but he could tell that learning moves like that on your own wasn't easy.

"But I've always wanted to use a sword."

"A sword? Why?"

"It's just…I feel like I would be stronger if I had a sword. A dagger is nice, but it doesn't feel…completely right."

"Well, when we go out on jobs, you'll earn enough money to buy a sword, or maybe you'll find one."

She gave him a hopeful look. "Do you think so?"

He shrugged. "I don't see why not."

"Ahh" she nodded.

"Since you know how to fight, we'll start on magic tomorrow. For now, go to the room and rest."

The next day, the two were once again in the basement, this time with Gaelich sitting on a stool nearby to make sure nothing got out of hand. The first lesson went smoothly, with Kagura managing to grasp the concept behind feeling her magic easily enough. The weeks after that passed the same way, with Bahamut coaching her in the basics of magic and sparring with her on a daily basis. She had improved to the point where Bahamut had let her accompany him on two jobs, and she got a small share of the pay. The green-eyed mage was impressed with her progress; the adaptability he had seen in their first spar had shown in all aspects of the admittedly improvised training regimen he had given her.

While he was a little jealous of Kagura's ability to learn magic in such a short time, he remembered what Acnologia told him: he had a "different" way of absorbing magic power and thus he had a little more trouble adapting, unlike her.

That, and he was still a better fighter than her.

But two months came and went, and it was finally time for the purple-haired girl to choose her branch of magic. But the way it happened was…noticeably different compared to Bahamut's first try.

The two were sparring in the basement, as their routine dictated. At this point in her training, Kagura had gotten a new blade – a shortsword – and Bahamut had upped the level by actually attacking her. She attacked with a dizzying barrage of slashes and thrusts – all of which he parried or blocked. She slashed him again in a wide arc, but he maneuvered underneath the blade and punched her in the gut, sending her across the room and landing on her knees.

"Had enough?" Bahamut asked with a smirk.

She replied with a determined grin. "I'm just getting started"

She touched the stone floor with her blade…and it was then something happened that caught the son of Acnologia completely off guard.

A glowing aura illuminated the blade as a magic circle ringed it in the middle. The light dissipated to reveal that the blade was coated in rocks and earth. With a yell, Kagura swung the blade, shooting small rocks that were sent flying towards Bahamut. He tried dodging and blocking the projectiles, but in doing so he failed to notice his friend charge at him. He managed to look down…

…only to be sent flying into the wall.

' _Urrgh…where did that come from?'_ he thought as he slowly regained his senses.

The young mage pulled himself up and rubbed his head. "What was that?"

"It's my magic. Do you like it?" Kagura asked in a faux-innocent tone that sounded _way_ too out-of-place for her.

"I know it's magic. When and where did you learn it? I haven't seen anything like that in any of the books in the shop."

"That's because you won't find it in any book" the voice of the old shopkeeper called out from the basement hatch as he descended down the stairs.

"There are some magicks in the world that are unique to individual mages and cannot be learnt by anyone else. The magic will usually be a branch of a larger class of magic. The young miss's magic here is an example."

Unique magicks? Acnologia had never told him about such a thing.

"Wait, you knew about this?"

"Indeed. She came to me a week ago and asked about it. She was trying to **Reinforce** her sword with magic when it started acting strangely. She also told me to keep it a secret from you."

"Why?"

"I wanted to surprise you" replied Kagura. "What do you think?"

"Well, what magic is it exactly? You didn't answer that"

"Gaelich said it looked like a type of **Transformation Magic**. I call it **Assimilation Sword**. When I use it, my sword can assimilate any element or material it touches" she raised the stone covered short-sword. "The sword touched the stone floor, so it gained stone powers" the sword glowed again and reverted to normal.

" **Assimilation Sword** …" repeated Bahamut. "That…sounds really cool"

Kagura just smiled and slightly bowed in thanks.

"Thanks. I still have to train with it more, and I'm hoping that getting an actual sword will make it stronger."

Bahamut smiled back. "Well, I think that I can take you with me on jobs now, so you'll have your chance."

The purple-haired girl's eyes shone with anticipation. She couldn't wait to try her new magic out in combat.

It was then that she looked at Bahamut and noticed something. "Shouldn't you get some medicine? I hit you pretty hard."

"Hmm? Oh no, I'm fine. I always heal quickly."

"That is true" Gaelich chimed in. "I always did seem to notice that you recover far more quickly than a normal mage."

The green-eyed mage raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Really?"

"Yes. Mages do heal faster and recover stamina quicker than most, but your healing is incredibly quick."

Bahamut rubbed his shoulder and sure enough, the pain was gone.

' _Do I really heal that fast?'_

Noticing his curious look, Gaelich continued. "You said your father trained you, right? If so, do you remember when was the last time you had to take medicine or healing?"

Bahamut's forehead scrunched up in thought. Now that he thought about it, anytime he would get hurt during training with his father, the pain would fade away the next day or even sooner. The most serious injury that he could remember from the training was when he broke his arm, but it healed within a couple of days; it was so brief that it nearly faded from his mind.

"…no, not really."

Galeich hummed. "…bah, don't dwell on it too much. If anything, this is a gift."

Kagura then decided to chime in. "So, when can we take a job?"

"Next week I think, but don't get your hopes up. Most jobs are quiet and any bandits or raiders aren't that strong. That being said, we'll have more open room to practice, so you should be fine"

 **-OBW-**

 _ **Vistarion, Alakitasia**_

' _My patience is being tried severely'_

Those were the thoughts of a blue-haired, blue-eyed, bespectacled man as he walked down the dark halls, illuminated by magic lamps. His hair was tied in a ponytail and he wore a blue trench coat over a white shirt with a blue tie, which was secured at the waist by a golden belt with a sapphire buckle. From underneath the trench coat, blue pants and dark shoes were seen on his legs and feet respectively. His face wore a neutral, yet stern expression and his hands were clasped around his back.

' _I am aware Bloodman is one of our generals, but there is a limit to how much he can sneak off and 'practice'. It is costing us valuable manpower and morale, and his attempts are not so discreet. Really, he should behave in accordance with his station.'_

The man let out a soft sigh of exasperation. _'Really, as strong as they may be, the rest of the twelve are immensely irritating at times…'_

"A rough day at the office?"

His eyes snapped open and he looked to the side, down a dark corridor. Out of the shadows, a dark-haired man wearing a white toga stepped out, his front faintly illuminated by the lanterns. The blue-haired man's breath hitched and he quickly got down on one knee.

"Your Majesty! Please forgive my-"

The dark man waved his hand. "Not to worry, not to worry. Please, rise."

The blue-haired man quickly did so and stood rigidly. The other man stepped out of the corridor and walked right.

"Walk with me"

The bespectacled man did so, walking just behind him.

"How are things down here?"

"Everything is going smoothly in the kingdom, Your Majesty. The regions are stable, taxes and trade are flowing smoothly, and our army is growing at an adequate pace."

"Hmm. Very good, very good. How is our mage recruitment?"

"Progressing smoothly as well, Your Highness. We receive new recruits each year, and the ones we do have are advancing steadily."

"I trust that everything will be ready in time for the plan?"

"I can personally attest to it, Your Majesty"

The dark-haired man nodded as they kept going down the hallway, the two men staying silent for a while. When light shone at the end of the hallway, he spoke again.

"Invel, do you remember when I came to you two years ago?"

"Of course, Your Majesty. I have gathered some very promising results. I assure you; you won't be disappointed."

The two came to the end of the hallway, which was a small balcony overlooking an arena. In it, a few people could be seen attacking huge, glowing beasts, with new ones forming as they fell.

The dark-haired man gestured with head to the arena. "Is that them?"

"Indeed, Your Majesty. They have all been trained personally by me and the other generals. They may lack some discipline, but I can assure you that will be straightened out."

"As your Emperor, you make me very proud, Invel. Keep up the good work"

Invel bowed again. "Thank you, Your Majesty"

The two then silently watched the fighters clash against the beasts. They all fought differently, with such blazing speed and power that normal men could not follow, but the duo watching did not have any problems. The dark-haired man observed all of them before something caught his eye.

"Invel, who is that?" he asked as he pointed towards a figure surrounded by three beasts. Invel followed his emperor's gaze until he perked up in recognition.

"Her? Oh, she is very promising. She comes from one of the southern kingdoms and is part of a rather reclusive tribe, I believe. She was sent here as their representative."

The female looked at the beasts and raised her sword. A second later, she stood behind them.

"She is skilled, fast, proficient with a blade…."

She swung down the sword forward…

"…and her magic is honestly rather terrifying."

…and all three beasts broke apart into pieces, disintegrating as they fell.

The dark-haired man nodded. "Ah, I see. How is she in terms of attitude?"

"She is respectful towards me and the generals, but she is rather informal and free-spirited. She seems to love making comebacks and is a tad cynical, but she does show some concern to her comrades in a fight."

"Indeed?" The dark-haired man kept looking at her, his eyes occasionally flickering towards the other fighters, the sounds of fighting echoing throughout the arena.

"Yes, but she does have some team problems. I asked her about it once, and she said she doesn't like dealing with 'tiresome people'"

The Emperor chuckled. "Don't we all?"

He kept observing the fighters for a few more minutes before turning to Invel.

"I have decided. Bring her up to the meeting room within an hour"

"Yes, Your Majesty"

The Emperor turned and walked into the corridor. The bespectacled man's nose twitched in thought and he turned to the other man.

"Your Majesty, if I may be allowed to ask…"

He stopped and slightly turned his head.

"Of course. What is the matter?"

"It's just…what is this for, anyway? And why her? With her power, I think she would be better suited as a future member of the Twelve."

The dark-haired man rubbed his chin. "To answer your question in reverse order; first, while she is undoubtedly strong, I'm sure there are plenty of other promising candidates. If this concerns you, you have my permission to discreetly recruit from Ishgar. As for the other question…"

He turned his gaze back to the corridor as a smile grew on his features.

"Let's just say that our end goal has been slightly...altered."

* * *

 **A lot of surprising revelations in this chapter! What do you think of the dialogue between Acno and Zeref?**

 **The IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT I have is: I need help with fight scenes. I really do. What I really want to show in this story are quality fight scenes, and despite me reading hundreds of other good fanfics with such scenes, I have been unable to properly write one myself. The sparring sessions in the chapter are an example, so if there's any author out there that can help me, it would be VERY APPRECIATED!**

 **Also, a shout-out to Artjr for the idea about Kagura's magic!**

 **In other news...ENDGAME is out this week and I have opening day tickets! ALL BOW BEFORE ME!**

 **Check out my other stories and the challenges on my bio! (Please check them out! Has no-one checked them out!?)**

 **Read and Review!**


End file.
